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The following pages contain an interesting 
sketch of the life of Jane Dormer, Duchess of 
Feria, extending from the time of her birth 
during the reign of king Henry the Eighth to 
that of her death in the reign of James the 
First. It contains many interesting details 
respecting the personal character and social 
condition of . various individuals with whom it 
is instructive to become thus familiarly acquain- 
ted. Its author commands at once our atten- 
tion and our confidence by reminding us of his 
own personal knowledge of most of the inci- 
dents which he has here recorded. He was 
an inmate of the family of the Duchess; he 
had resided for many years in her household; 
he possessed her confidence, he witnessed her 
death and assisted at her funeral. We feel 


that we may trust his statements without hes- 
itation. He writes with a quiet simplicity 
which recommends what he has here chronicled ; 
and we gladly, accept his story, homely as it is, 
as more than a compensation for that lack of 
artistic skill which the reader cannot fail to 
detect in the structure of the following narra- 

Our chronicle opens with a sketch of the 
history of the noble family of Dormer, the 
accuracy of which, in some of its earlier 
details, may possibly be questioned. But the 
attention of the reader is speedily arrested by 
the precious details with which it furnishes 
him respecting the life, sufferings and death of 
Father Sebastian Nudigate, who takes his 
place along with Cardinal Fisher and Sir 
Thomas More among the noble army of mar- 
tyrs who died for the faith under Henry the 
Eighth.^ Several interesting particulars as to 
the private character and domestic virtues of 
Queen Catharine of Aragon next claim our 
notice. We learn that she rose at midnight to 
1 p. 19. 


be present at the Matins of the Religious, 
after which she heard Mass at five o'clock 
in the morning. Under her royal attire she 
wore the habit of St. Francis, " having taken 
the profession of his Third Order." She fasted 
on bread and water every Friday and Saturday, 
and on all the eves of our Blessed Lady, 
whose Office she read daily. On every Sunday 
she received the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. 
Most part of her morning was spent in the 
Church at holy Service, and after dinner she 
read the life, of the Saint of the day to her 
maids. And then she returned to the Church. 
She was banished from the Court to Kimbol- 
ton, where it was said that her days had been 
shortened by the unwholesome air, while some 
were of opinion that poison had been admin- 
istered, '* for the lady Anne hated her extreme- 
ly." » 

Of Anne Boleyn a few characteristic sketches 
are preserved. Her life was very different to 
that of her predecessor, being passed chiefly in 
masks, plays, dancing and such personal de- 

a P. 73-78. 


lights, "in which she had a special grace." 
Our author has preserved a story, which he be- 
lieved to be true, of Anne having attempted to 
poison Cardinal Fisher; and he states that the 
agent in the plot " being discovered did confess 
it and was publicly put to death for it." 
Several other reports of a kindred nature 
follow; which, be they true or false, show the 
estimation in which Anne's morality was gene- 
rally regarded by her contemporaries.^ 

Edward the Sixth next claims at onqe our 
attention and our sympathy. In order that the 
new doctrine now introduced into England might 
take the deeper root, we are told that apostate 
priests and friars from foreign parts, with 
their wives, were entertained in this kingdom, 
and sent to be public preachers in the Univer- 
sities, where they taught heresies. If any 
pious or learned Catholic gainsaid (as many 
did) the doctrine of these outlandish apostates, 
they were persecuted, put to silence, deprived 
of their livings, imprisoned, or banished. The 
calm firmness with which this iniquitous 

8 P. 76-85. 


attempt was resisted by a considerable number 
of the English people is well illustrated by the 
account here given of the conduct of the 
Princess Mary and the family of the Dormers. 
Of the little Prince himself some pleasing 
reminiscences are here recorded, and they come 
to us in a form which commands our accep- 
tance. Our Biographer writes as follows. " I 
have heard them that were about the Prince 
avouch it, that his inclination was of great 
towardness to all virtuous parts and princely 
qualities. He was a marvellous sweet child, 
of very mild and generous condition. After- 
wards when his father died (he being but nine 
years of age) mischievous and heretical gover- 
nors, contrary to his father's will, abused his 
tender age; who ruling to effect their own 
ends notoriously injured the natural good in- 
clinations of this gentle and noble prince. 
For, when he was king, in passing by the 
ruins of goodly monasteries, he demanded 
what buildings were these; it was answered, 
that they were religious houses, dissolved and 

demolished by order of the king his father for 

a 2 


abuses. Edward replied ; *' Could not my 
father punish the offenders and suffer so goodly 
buildings to stand, and put in better men that 
might have governed and inhabited them ? *' 
seeming to lament that lamentable course." 

From the same authority we learn that the 
Princess Mary, having gained some influence 
over the little Edward, order was taken by his 
tutors that the visits of his half-sister should be 
very rare, upon the plea that they made him 
unhappy and melancholy. It was intended also 
that proceedings should have been taken against 
Mary's officers and servants for violating the 
newly made law, she having had public Mass in 
her chapel ; but Edward refused to sanction, this 
prosecution, and strictly commanded that the 
Princess should have full liberty to follow the 
dictates of her conscience.* 

The accession of Elizabeth was a turning-point 
in the history of Jane Dormer. During the reign 
of Queen Mary her sister, the Princess Elizabeth 
had professed herself to be a zealous Catholic, 
and as such had deliberately practised the duties 

* p. 6i, 62. 


requited by the Church; but when she found 
herself safely mounted on the throne of England, 
she appeared before the world in her true character. 
The marriage of Jane Dormer to the Count de 
Feria, Philip's trusted minister, rendered her 
residence in England no longer possible; and 
accordingly she bid farewell to the land of her 
birth, never to return. Her parting interview 
with Elizabeth and her journey through Flanders 
and France on her way to her new home in Spain, 
are here recorded with some minuteness ; among 
the more interesting details of which may be 
specified the pleasing glimpse which it affords 
us of the visit which she paid to Mary Stuart, 
at that time Queen of France and wife of king 
Francis the Second. 

We cannot find space to trace step by step the 
account here given of the life of the Duchess of 
Feria during the years which she spent in Spain. 
In every capacity in which we meet her she 
appears to advantage ; as wife, as mother and as 
widow ; at home and abroad ; as mistress of a 
large household, amidst the temptations of a 
brilliant court ; in her domestic relations with the 


society with which she mingled, and in her 
public and private devotions. Just and prudent as 
well as kindly and generous, she seems to have 
won the confidence and secured the affections of 
all with whom she came into contact. While we 
wish that the narrative of her biographer had been 
somewhat more diffuse upon certain particulars, 
we are grateful to him for the details which, but 
for his loving care would have perished. We 
treasure the lessons which her example teaches 
us. Henceforward the name of Jane Dormer, 
Duchess of Feria, takes its place in our memory 
as one of that company of good women of which 
Catholic England has cause to be proud; and 
we here cordially thank the present noble inheri- 
tor of her Name and her Creed, for the privilege 
of at length becoming acquainted with the 
virtues of his illustrious ancestress. 

And now a few words must be devoted to the 
insufficient details which have come down to us 
respecting the author of the following narrative. 

The little which we know about the history of 
Henry Clifford, the biographer of the Duchess of 
Feria, is derived from the Dormer manuscript. 

PREFACE. ariii 

This narrative, as it stands at the present time, 
was written in the year 1643, and it was then pre- 
sented by the author to Charles Dormer, Earl of 
Carnarvon and Lord Baron of Wing ; but it had 
evidently been drawn up at a much earlier date, 
while the incidents which are here recorded were 
fresh in the memory of the narrator. In the Pre- 
face to the Life of the Duchess, as we now have 
it, Clifford tells us that he had derived his in- 
formation partly from what he himself had seen, 
known and heard ; and partly from the informa- 
tion of trustworthy authorities. From the way 
in which he mentions an incident which occurred 
at Oxford when he was a boy there in 1581 or 
1582, we may infer that he was born somewhere 
about the year 1570.^ He must have been in the 
service of the Duchess for some time before 1605, 
for in that year she bestowed upon him an an- 
nuity of twenty pounds, as well as the sum of 
forty pounds due to the Lady Hungerford, lately 
deceased.^ He had received information respect- 

5 See the present volume, p. 38. 
« She died 19th December, 1603. See Clififord's letter to Sir 
Robert Dormeri dated Madrid, 14th December, 1605. 


ing the duchess from the Earl of Nottingham, 
who had seen her when he was ambassador in 
Spain in 1605.'' But at this period Clifford had 
been for some time in the service of the duchess 
and had secured her confidence, as will appear 
by the extracts which will presently be given 
from his correspondence. The narrative was in 
process of composition, or perhaps of final re- 
vision, in 1616.^ From these indications we may 
venture to believe that it was begun very shortly 
after the death of the Duchess of Feria, which 
occurred on 23rd January, 1613.® 

During the course of the narrative its author 
mentions circumstances which shew that he held 
an official position in the ducal household, and 
one moreover which brought him into frequent 
and confidential intercourse with its head. By 
the duchess he was made acquainted with some 
conversation of a private nature which had 
passed between herself and her husband*^® 
We have already seen that he was in her 
service in 1605, at which time he occupied 

1 p. 68. 8 p. 8. 

9 P. 200. W P. I321 


a situation of trust and authority.^ He was 
in close attendance upon her during her 
last sickness ; ^^ he stood by her deathbed in 
company with two Fathers of the Society of 
Jesus, four Franciscan Friars, one Dominican 
and her chaplain ;^^ and as she drew her last 
breath she put into his hands the rosary which 
she had used, " on which she meditated and had 
often discoursed."^* And as the highest token 
of their respect for his services, her family 
entrusted him with the arrangement of her 
funeral, of the details of which he has left us a 
full account in the concluding pages of his nar- 

The Manuscript at Grove Park which has 
furnished the Biography of the Duchess of Feria 
also contains copies of several letters addtessed 
by Henry Clifford to Sir Robert Dormer 
(created Baron Dormer of Wing in 1615) the 
following extracts from which will be read with 

" pp. 154, 155. See also the extracts from his letters written 
at this time to Sir Robert Dormer. 

w Pp. 185, 189. " P. 192. " P. 181. 


Madrid, 8th October, 1605. 

" I thank God her Grace for her health passeth 
reasonable well, although troubled often with 
such infirm and diseaseful accidents as her age 
is subject unto. 

Of the duke of Feria his letters intended for 
England, as I remember, I certified in my last, 
and am glad they be received. It argues his 
honorable disposition that finding by those things 
he shall receive from you, and from hence, the 
antiquity and nobility that he hath in his blood 
from his mother will bind that love and respect 
which so near affinity requires. 

On the 23rd of July there died in Valladolid 
Sir Thomas Palmer, a Western knight. I think 
he was of the king's Privy Chamber. His sick- 
ness was the small-pox. He died a Catholic and 
very Christianly." 

Madrid, 14 December, 1605. 

"If you have not the pedigree ready I pray 
trouble yourself no further in it, for I shall make 
a perfect one here, having both the descents by 
Dormer and Sydney, with their arms and matches, 


under Clarencius' hand, as in part you may per- 
ceive by this note translated, which I wrote in 
Latin for the duke. And when I have finished 
the draft as I have devised and her Grace desireth, 
against the truth of which no expeption shall be 
taken, I will send you a copy ; wherein you 
shall see your house allied with all the great 
houses of Christendom. Of the Herald's errors 
in the Pedigree you sent I noted in my last, 
which were much mistaken. 

Her Grace passeth with her health in reason- 
able sort ; and I hope by God His preservation I 
shall serve her yet very many years." 

Madrid, 22nd March, 1606. 

"I thank God her Grace passeth with indifferent 
health and beareth her age reasonably well, for on 
Twelfth day last she made fully seventy-one years 
of age, and yet hath her discretion, judgment and 
memory as mature as ever ; and you would won- 
der to hear how well she discourses in her own 
language, with such fit terms and good words as 
such English as came hither to visit her marvel 
at it ; seeing since she left England the language 


hath been much altered and refined. But above all 
her great virtue and admirable example of modest 
and matron-like carriage give her the honour of 
all the ladies I know, and without flattery may 
term her the mirror of her sex and honour of our 
nation. She hath been widow almost these thirty- 
eight years ^^ and with those remarkable parts of 
recollection and notable Christianity that all that 
know her give her much respect and reverence." 

Madrid, 17th January, 1609. 

"Her Grace (I thank God) enjoys reasonable 
health, although her many years and the absence 
of the duque her son, and somewhat the affection- 
ate desire she hath to see your house advanced, 
deprive her of much contentment ; and if she were 
partaker of these latter she should pass the 
former with much more ease and comfort. 

Yet, sir, if you did know her memory, her 
discourse, her government, having the manage- 
ment of all her son's estate, the labours that 
she taketh, rising with the day and presently 
entering into her oratory, where she remains two 
" But see p. 129 of the present volume. 


hours. Then her chaplain comes to say Mass, 
which ended, if it be a Feast day she goes to 
church, as every day she does this Holy Week 
before Easter. If not she disposeth herself to 
such affairs as are offered. Ever if she have 
health, in business, for her diet (which is very 
temperate) keeps the English order, at eleven 
o'clock, or soon after. In the afternoon com- 
monly she visits, or is visited, by other ladies ; 
but never goeth to sleep before she hath ended 
her office and ordinary devotions, which are 
many. You would say she were not only the 
great honour of her house but the glory of her 
country ; and herein she shews herself to be truly 
the daughter of your noble grandmother, who 
shewed herself a lady of worthy example in all 
nobility and piety." 

One more interview with the good duchess 
and we bring these introductory remarks to a 

In the year 1596, James the Sixth, king of 
Scotland, sent an embassy into Spain, under 
Robert, fourth lord Simpill, to congratulate 
king Philip the Third on his accession to the 


throne. The ambassador while at the Court 
became acquainted with the Duchess of Feria, 
whose letter to the king (dated at Madrid, 
3rd June, 1600,) has been preserved in the 
Advocates Library at Edinburgh.^® She reminds 
him of the dutiful affection which she bore 
to that blessed queen his mother, as also 
of the honour which she bears to his Majesty ; 
in whom if she might also see her zeal in the 
Catholic religion, she professes she would be' 
bounden to God for the hope she would receive 
by him for the repair of her wracks, both spiritual 
and temporal. She concludes with these words : 
"Wherefore I cease not to beseech daily the 
Almighty to illuminate your Majesty in that 
behalf, and to make you as great a saint on earth 
as was your blessed mother, to the advancement 
of His glory and good of our country." 

Under the same date the duchess forwarded 
to King James certain " Reasons to intimate to 
the king's Majesty of Scotland whereby it may 
appear that his best way to obtain the crown of 
England is to become Catholic, and to give 
18 Numbered, MS. 33, i, 10. 


satisfaction thereof to the Catholics of Eng- 

She premises that in England there are three 
sorts of men of different profession, namely, 
Catholics, Heretics and men of no religion, she 
continues her argument by remarking: that of 
these the " Catholics exceed in number either of 
the others ; and of the three the zealous heretics 
are the most fervent ; for the greatest part of all 
those that live in obedience to the Queen's laws 
are either dissembling Catholics or men of no 
religion, who would be as ready to follow a 
Catholic prince as an heretic, if occasion served." 

So then, argued the duchess, if the King's 
Majesty of Scotland gained the Catholics, he 
consequently would gain the greatest part of 
those that are indifferent, or of no religion. For 
although some of them may be moved with 
particular affection to some pretender within the 
realm, yet the greater number of them will ever 
follow the strongest, which no doubt will be the 
king's Majesty of Scotland if the Catholics adhere 
to him ; the other pretenders being divided 
amongst themselves. 


The paper concludes with the following words 
of caution. " The Catholics, having noted His 
Majesty's education in heresy, his many actions 
conform to the same, the small satisfaction that 
he hath given to such as have sought his con- 
version, ascribe his moderate course used hither- 
to rather to policy than to any good inclination 
to the Catholic Faith. Therefore they cannot 
but think it dangerous to the Church of God 
and themselves to advance his title except they 
have assurance of his sincerity in religion; so 
that in the state that His Majesty now standeth, 
he cannot make any assured account to have 
any sufficient party in England." ^^ 

The text of the Life of the Duchess of Feria 
which forms the basis of the present volume was 
prepared for the press some years ago by the late 
Rev. E. E. Estcourt, Canon of St. Chad's 
Cathedral, Birmingham; who also at consider- 
able expense collected a large amount of valuable 
material, illustrative of the incidents, persons 
and places which are mentioned in the narra- 

1' On Sempil's mission to Spain, see some additional details 
in Burton's History of Scotland, v. 286, ed. 1876. 


tive.^^ The long illness and untimely death of the 
learned Canon prevented the appearance of his 
intended work in the form which had originally 
been announced. Now at length, after the delay 
of many years, the biographical narrative, as 
prepared by Canon Estcourt, is here issued by 
the present editor ; but he has unwillingly been 
compelled to omit the many illustrative papers, 
pedigrees, drawings and other supplementary 
matter which had been brought together by the 
research and industry of the original Editor. The 
biography of the duchess as prepared by him for 
the press is here printed from his own transcript ; 
and this little volume is now given to the public 
by the present Editor as a tribute to one whose 
loss he laments and whose memory he cherishes. 

I2th Septmber, 1887. 

w Here the present Editor cannot refrain from mentioning 
the existence at Grove Park of two admirable portraits of the 
Duchess of Feria. The first represents her as a young woman, 
in the pride of her beauty, and arrayed in all the splendour of 
the Court of Spain. In the second she appears in the plain 
and severe religious habit which she assumed on the death of 
her husband, and which she continued to wear during the re- 
maining years of her widowhood. 



This treatise hath long lain by me, having dedicated 
it to your honourable great-grandmother, my lady the 
Lady Elisabeth Dormer, of happy memory. But 
it having pleased Almighty God to take her to a 
better world, where she enjqyeth the reward of her 
virtuous life and her many good works, I did then 
present it to your most noble and valiant father, who 
in the penning of this Epistle died, to his eternal 
honour and valour, in the service of his prince at 
the battle of Newbury, this year 1643, professing his 
happiness and content to die in the confession of the 
Roman Catholic faith and performance to his duty 
to his lawful king and sovereign. Your Lordship 


being kin of his house, and in confidence of his virtue 
and valour f I should have forgotten my duty, to have 
intituled it to any other ^ seeing the Lady Jane 
Dormer, Duchess of Feria, whose life and death it 
chiefly handleth, being so singular and renowned 
an honour to your noble family, and sister to my 
Lord Dormer your honourable great-grandfather. 

In her Excellency your Lordship will behold Or 
lively mirror of true Nobility, christian Piety, and 
illustrious Honour, an eternal worthy Pattern to 
your House and Posterity. In this treatise is also 
touched, as the course of the history occasioned, the 
the life of her virtuous Grandmother, the Lady Jane 
Dormer, and of her Saint-Brother, a Carthusian 
martyr, both of blessed memory; of the Lady 
Hungerford, Sister to my Lady Duchess; the life 
of the most excellent and pious Queen, Queen Mary, 
her Lady and Mistress; and the lives of both the 
Dukes, her husband and son. What is written here 
is out of approved histories, or from the relation of 
such persons against whose worth and credit no 
exceptions may morally be given; or from that which 
I myself have known, seen and heard. For my 
purpose and intention is to tell truth. To flatter, i 


is either to gain, or to deceive; this is of vile and 
base negociants, the other of shifters and lewd com- 
panions, as Plutarch saith, the infamy of free men 
and custom of slaves. Extreme is the folly to use 
fiction where there is no necessity nor occasion ; and 
to illustrate the honour and worth of so renowned 
and holy a personage with untruths, I hold it sacri- 
lege ; and to deprive her of right and due were 
apparent injury. 

This history deserves a better and more learned 
pen ; but I trust your Lordship will pardon defects, 
and accept in good part my good will in performing 
the duty, and obligation I owe to the happy memory 
of my most honourable good Lady and Mistress; 
and the serviceable respect and love I bear to your 
most noble House and Family, and in particular to 
your Lordship, whose life, health and happiness, may 
God Almighty bless with that prosperous increase of 
honours; as desireth your Lordship's most humble 
and affectionate servant, 


The Life of the Lady Jane 
Dormer, Duchess of Feria. 



The Lady Jane Dormer was born of parents, 
whose progenitors have been of the most ancient 
nobility of England, and of worthy esteem, both 
in descent of blood, and effects of valour and 
virtue. The Cardinal Nicholas de Peleve, Arch- 
bishop of Rheims, and first Peer of France, well 
understood this, when, in the name of the Three 
Estates of that Kingdom, he answered the oration 
of the Duke of Feria, her son, who was Ambas- 
sador from Philip II. 2nd April, in the year 1593, 
to the League at Paris. ** I cannot refrain," said 
the Archbishop " from mentioning your Mother, 


who descended from the most illustrious Families 
of England, daily bestows her bounty to relieve 
and cherish the afflicted exiles for religion in 
Spain, who are English, Irish, and Scots." 

The family of Dormer, (as I have seen in an 
old Pedigree, which is confirmed by tradition), 
was anciently seated in Normandy, at the time 
when King Edward the Confessor took refuge 
there from the tyranny of Harold Harefoot, son 
of King Canute, who had usurped the kingdom. 
On being recalled from Normandy by Harold's 
successor, Hardicanute, Prince Edward brought 
in his retinue Thomas D'Ormer among other 
Norman gentlemen, all of whom he advanced to 
great places and dignities. The old tradition 
saith, that in the wars which King Edward had 
with the Danes and with Earl Godwin he was 
much assisted with monies, which the said 
Thomas D'Ormer lent him. And after a success- 
ful end of these wars D'Ormer invited the King 
to his house to dinner ; which done, he brought 
the tallies in a dish that were evidences of the 
money which he had lent to the King, saying, 
that for the hononr done his house, he had no 
better dish to show his thankfulness withal, than 
these wooden chips ; and so he cast the tallies in- 


to the fire. The King understood by the number 
of the tallies the value of his debt, and the great- 
ness of the gift, replied, with allusion to the 
Etymology of his name, " Well mayst thou be 
called D'Ormer, thou hast a sea of gold, doing 
what thou hast done." In memory whereof it 
is said, the Arms of Dormer were altered; for 
wrhereas they formerly were a lion rampant, sable, 
on a gold field, there was added, Azure, ten gold 
Billets, and the lion placed in chief.^ 

Some may object, that neither the name of 
Thomas Dormer, nor any such act of service is 
found mentioned in any history ; and that at that 
time the usage had not begun of bearing arms to 
distinguish families. But Stow in his English 
Chronicle (p. 94.) recordeth, that King Edward 
brought many out of Normandy, whom he promo- 
ted to divers dignities, but nameth only two, who 
were Churchmen. And of the many, why might 
not Thomas Dormer be one ? And in memory of 
this service of Thomas Dormer to his King, some 
succeeding Prince might grant his arms to be 
honoured, as it is ; divers Kings having done the 

1 Clifford here cites as his authority "P. Ribadeneyra in su 
Epistola del libro de los Santos Estravagantes, dedicada a la 
duquesa de Feria." 


like to the posterity of them, who by their noble 
exploits have well-merited of their country. 

The son of this Thomas was William D'Oraier^ 
who joined with the Normans his countrymen, 
when King William invaded England. His son 
was likewise William, whose genealogy, in the 
heir male hath continued in lawful succession 
to this year 1616. The Lord Dormer that now 
lives, being the only brother of the said Duchess 
of Feria, among whose ancestors was Sir 
William Dormer, who valiantly served King 
Edward the Third in his wars against France 
about the year 1350. Another, Geoffrey Dormer^ 
in King Henry the Sixth his days, had twenty- 
six children, and most of them sons. But for the 
particulars of progenitors, it is not my purpose 
to rehearse, but only to discourse of such as 
were concerned in the birth, education, and life 
of the said Jane Dormer. 

Robert Dormer, who was afterwards Sir 
Robert, the grandfather of our Lady Duchess, 
married Jane the daughter of John Nudigate of 
I Harefield in Middlesex, and Dame Amphyllis 
Nevill of the house of Westmoreland. This Sir 
Robert Dormer, a chief man of his country, a 
great housekeeper, was beloved and honoured of 


his neighbours. He was called by King Henry 
VIII. to be Treasurer of his army, wherewith 
the King went himself to Motterell in France. 
He was so beloved that the King, respecting 
his worth and valour, would have kept him at 
his court ; but he returned into England 
voluntarily, retired to his house. Here he 
was contented to live among his neighbours, 
as his ancestors had done before him. For 
in those times good men of hospitality rather 
fled than followed high and ambitious titles. 
A further cause of his absence from the Court 
was first, the power and ambition of such as 
commanded, and afterwards, the King's disorder 
in questioning the lawful marriage with his 
good and virtuous wife Catharine. Proceeding 
to worse, came the grief that good Catholic 
men took for his departure from the obedience 
of God's Church, together with his violent 
persecution of such as constantly remained 
in the profession thereof; wherein this good 
knight shewed his zeal to God His truth. 
For when he saw the course and purpose of 
the King in his Parliament to carry all matters 
according to his passion, (which to crop or 
gainsay menaced utter ruin) he avoided by all 


means to be a Parliament man; for being 
chosen by his County to be Knight of the 
Shire, he refused it and resigned it over to 
another, persuading the County that so it was 
best for them. And when the King by Act of 
Parliament took into his possession Abbey- 
lands, which to make more plausible, in winning 
the approbation of his subjects to this unchristian 
act. Sir Robert gave to divers the said lands, 
or sold them for little or nothing in respect of 
their value; and offered to many gentlemen, of 
living and regard in their countries, such lands 
at a very low price, in a sort forced them to 
take them. This he did, for if they denied or 
shrunk back, suspicion was presently taken of 
their aversion from the King in this Act; and 
they came in danger to be questioned for their 
allegiance. This Knight sought by all possi- 
bilities, to avoid the buying of any such lands, 
which had been bestowed to the service of 
Almighty God. 

This being noted by some about the King, 
they gave information to his Majesty to incense 
him against Sir Robert Dormer, thereby to 
question both his life and living. So by per- 
suasion of friends, he was in a sort compelled 


to buy Abbot's Aston, a manor not far from his 
house. In lieu whereof, his house was a refuge 
and entertainment to all distressed and perse- 
cuted Catholics, both priests and others, who 
retired themselves not to subscribe to this 
unheard of tyranny of a christian king. 

With the like hospitality and works of charity, 
this good Knight did pass the time that he lived 
in King Edward's reign; who by no means 
either by importunity, by threats, or by other 
devices, could be brought to follow, flatter, or 
yield to the disordered desires of those who 
governed in that child-king's days. For Sir 
Robert's son, having but two daughters, the 
Lady Jane and her sister, then in appearance 
to be heirs of his large domains, (their Father 
remaining a widower nine years,) they were 
sought by the greatest to be matched to the next 
of their blood. But the old discreet knight, 
albeit for the present their authority was mighty 
and pretendjng shelter under their shadows, yet 
doubting the fall would be as sudden of such 
high climbers, or some unhappy result of am- 
bition without religion or respect to God's service, 
could not be induced to hearken to those motions, 
choosing rather to have those young gentle- 


Avomen, the wives of gentlemen of christian 
integrity, than of great ones, who were stained 
with the foul spots of such ungodly carriage. 
For to this end the Duke of Northumberland 
himself came once to his house of purpose to 
propound a match for one of his sons, and to 
make Sir Robert Dormer, (much beloved in his 
country,) a sure friend for his designs; but 
prevailed not. 

This good knight, full of good works and 
zealous of God's honour, changed this mortal 
life for the immortal, in the year 1552 ; leaving 
the Lady Jane his widow, with whom he had 
lived forty years. It was she who was the 
bringer-up of her granddaughter, the Lady Jane ; 
and was really more noble by her virtue and 
sanctity of life, than by birth, though descended 
of the Nevills of the royal house of Lancaster. 
She was grandchild to Sir John Nevill, her 
mother being his daughter and heir; and thus 
was descended of Thomas Nevill and Anne his 
wife, who was daughter to John Holland, Duke 
of Exeter, and EHsabeth his wife, the daughter 
of John of Gaunt. 

The mother of Jane Dormer was the Lady 
Mary Sidney, eldest daughter of Sir William 


Sidney, Governor and High Chamberlain of 
Prince Edward in the time of King Henry VIII. 
his Father; one of the heirs of Charles Brandon, 
Duke of Suffolk, being his cousin german. 

Her brother was Sir Henry Sidney, who 
married Mary, daughter of the Duke of North- 
umberland, and was Lord Deputy of Ireland 
eight years. His daughter was the Countess of 
Pembroke, mother of Sir Philip Sidney. 

Of Sir Henry's other sisters one married the 
father of the Lord Harrington; the third Sir 
William Fitzwilliams. The youngest, Frances, 
married the Earl of Sussex, Lord Chamberlain 
to Queen Elizabeth, and was the foundress of 
Sidney Sussex College in Cambridge. There 
were other two sisters, who died unmarried; 
both served the Lady Mary before she was 
Queen, and were much beloved by her for their 
rare virtue, and zeal in Catholic Religion. 

Sir William Dormer by this his former wife 
had but these two daughters, Jane the subject of 
these memoirs, and Anne married to the Lord 
Hungerford. By his latter wife he had a son 
and three daughters, his son the now Lord 
Dormer, married Elisabeth, daughter of Antony, 
Viscount Montagu, and Magdalen his wife. 


daughter of the Lord Dacre of the North, 
through whom he allied his house with many 
noble families. 

Sir William's eldest daughter by this wife was 
married to the son aud heir of the Viscount 
Montague, and is mother of Antony the now 
Viscount, a very Catholic and religious noble- 
man. His second daughter, Catharine, married 
the Lord St. John of Bletstoe ; and his youngest 
daughter, Margaret, to Sir Henry Constable of 
the North, a very ancient and noble gentleman, 
whose son is the present Viscount of Dunbar, 
and married the sister of the Countess oi 



Jane Dormer was born at Ethrop, not far from 
Aylesbury rn the County of Buckingham, in her 
grandfather's house, on the 6th of January, the 
year of our Lord 1538, being Sunday, and the 
Feast of the Epiphany; therein presaging the 
virtues of her after life by coming into the world, 
when Christians were rejoicing in the birth of 
our Lord. 

In her baptism the name of Jane was given to 
her after her grandmother ; and this name signi- 
fying grace, how well it did befit her will appear 
in her life. When she began to speak and 
discern^ and learn her duty, her natural inclina- 
tions might easily be seen. She was apt, very 
disciplinable, obedient, humble, awful, generous 
in her condition ; so that she seemed a child only 
in years. She was much beloved by the servants 


and gentlewomen, that were in her grandmother's 
house, (for there were many of noble descent, 
commended by their parents, to learn good 
education and virtue in that house), all presaging, 
that so sweet conditions, in so tender years and 
so graceful a countenance, gave hope to produce 
answerable effects. So obedient a child was she 
to her parents and so subject to her tutress, as 
shewed plainly her good disposition and mar- 
vellous towardness. She was very forward to 
kneel upon her knees, to bless herself, to learn 
her prayers, to delight to go to the chapel, to 
have books and beads in her hands; and very 
prompt with contentment to all holy things. 
When she came to the age of four years, it 
pleased God to take her mother out of this world ; 
that in her infancy the child might begin to taste 
the troubles and inconstancy of the world bj'' so 
great a loss in a tender age. Her grandmother 
then took upon her the charge of bringing her 
up, and she was so rare and worthy a matron, 
there were few like her ; of whose life and notable 
actions I shall record something. 

The Lady Jane, daughter of John Nudigate, 
was married to Sir Robert -Dormer in the year 
1512. Of this marriage was born only one son, 


Sir William. Before her marriage she was a 
mirror of recollection and devotion ; as a wife, 
of modesty, prudence, and charity ; as a widow, 
of patience, piety; and holy exercises. She was 
always a great friend of integrity ; an enemy to 
vanity, very humble, severe to herself, fervent 
towards God, full of pity and compassion to the 
poor, and ever gracious and charitable to her 
neighbours and tenants. If any was sick, they 
were assured of her care and were cherished with 
good meats, and what else was necessary. Not 
only did she send daily to visit them, but she did 
not leave to see them herself, and succour their 
necessities ; especially women in childbed. Even 
the poorest neighbour would she comfort with 
her presence, and with liberal hand she relieved 

Such was the entire, chaste and true affec- 
tion, wherewith she honoured and observed her 
husband, as she hath been known to affirm, that if 
he had died the very day of their marriage, she 
would never have married again. Such was her 
prudence, that he referred to her the govern- 
ment of his house and estate, which all his life 
she governed with great discretion and notable 
moderation. She brought up her son to fear God, 



she SO ordered her family, so took account of her 
servants, and had care that all did their duty, as 
it seemed that she had set before her eyes for her 
guide and example the portraiture of " the valor- 
ous woman ** painted by King Solomon. Always 
she had a special eye to her maid-servants, that 
they should keep home, be modest, shamefaced, 
honest in behaviour. Her whole life praised her 
memory. Herein were everywhere seen her 
usual alms to the poor; her great charity to 
priests, religious, and other distressed persons, 
whom the impiety of the time persecuted; her 
continual hospitality ; her zealous counsels, and 
Christian admonitions to her kin and friends 
to persevere in the Catholic Faith ; and her 
care and diligence to remove from them all 
hindrances, that might cool this perseverance. 
Her women servants were relieved with honest 
portions, some to marry, others to enter into 
religion. Here too should be noted her accus- 
tomed bounty to the Church for the advancement 
of God's service ; her own labour and the labours 
of her servants to work vestments, altar cloths, 
and other ornaments for the same ; her devotion 
and fervour to the Catholic Religion in the time 
of schism and apostacy by sustaining priests, not 


only for her own house, but for the assistance 
and comfort of her neighbours ; her hate of 
heresy ; her hours spent in prayer and recollec- 
tion; her works, her words; — all these things 
praise her and record her memory. 

This Lady's brother, Sebastian Nudigate, was 
a gentleman of good parts, and of the Privy 
Chamber to King Henry the VIII., and not a little 
favoured by him. This king too much carried 
with his lustful appetites, began to be weary of 
his virtuous wife, and sensually to affect others. 
Hereupon this good Lady Dormer, fearing lest 
the bad example of so great a king should also 
corrupt her brother, invited him to her house, 
(which they make ordinarily a day's journey from 
London) ; discoursed with him of the alteration 
of the court ; what Was bruited in the country of 
the dissolute behaviour of the Courtiers ; and the 
infamous example of the king, in rejecting so 
famous, noble and virtuous a Lady as the Queen 
was. She advised him to take heed of the 
deceits of the world, and the snares of the devil ; 
to look to the duty of a Christian ; and not to 
stain his soul and honour with so dangerous and 
pestilent contagions, as the bad example of so 
potent a master did lead him to. He replying, 


excused the king his master by saying that the 
report and her opinion of the king were worse 
than he demerited ; but, if the king should prove 
so bad as the world suspecteth or speaks of him, 
Sebastian promised his sister to have in memory 
what she advised him. She answered, he should 
do well to remember it, and to perform it. " I 
shall," saith he. " I fear it," said she : At which 
word pausing a while, leaning his head upon his 
hand, he replied : " Sister, what will you say, if 
the next news you hear of me shall be that I am 
entered to be a monk in the Charter-house ? " ** A 
monk ! " she saith. " I fear, rather, I shall see 
thee hanged. (Not many years after she saw both.) 
I pray God keep thee a good Christian ; for such 
perfection is fit for men of other metal than loose 
Courtiers." So smiling her brother took his 
leave and returned to the Court. 

The king went forward in his luxurious designs, 
advanced to dignities, and the greatest offices, 
corrupt and dissolute persons, such as flattered 
him in his unchaste and violent proceedings, abas- 
ing and displacing the worthy and virtuous. 
When Sebastian noted this with grief and trouble 
of mind, perceiving the horrible mists and temp- 
ests that these courses of the king did threaten 



to the kingdom and reflecting upon the discourse 
he had with his sister, he resolved to deliver him- 
self from the snares of the Court, and the dang- 
ers of the world, and so as to betake himself in 
time to a more secure harbour. Neither his 
place in Court, nor the favour of the king, nor 
his hopes of higher advancement did move him. 
With a firm resolution he renounced all, and 
entered Religion among the Carthusians in the 
Charterhouse in London ; a Religion, that in 
England had especial veneration. 

When his sister understood this she wondered 
not a little that her brother should make so sud- 
den a change, imagining it to be rather a delu- 
sion, and temptation of the devil ; first carrying 
him to so high a pitch, and after to throw him 
down. For this alteration on the sudden from 
such delicateness, from such a place of ambition, 
and liberty of conversation, to such austerity, 
and despising of human glory, and recollection, 
and strait silence, and perpetual clausure, bred 
these fears in her mind. Albeit his inclination 
was not of the worst, yet she held him no better 
than others in the Court of honest name ; never 
dreaming of any such perfection, as that he 
should enter an order so different from his bring- 


ing up ; for in his life, he could never digest fish, 
but if eaten, he would vomit it up again ; and 
this order must never taste flesh. 

Thus discussing with herself, she resolved to 
ride to London, to see him, and inform the Prior 
her opinion of it ; so she took her journey, and 
came to the Charterhouse. She there desired to 
speak with the Father Prior, who coming to her, 
after due salutation, he heard her discourse of her 
brother. She advised the Prior to consider 
well the admittance of him into his order. For 
it seemed to her a thing unlikely, that one having- 
to that time passed his life in wordly content- 
ments, should on the sudden be fit for so strait 
and austere a religion. The Prior answered, 
" Good Lady, thanks be to God, fit enough ; '" 
and that she should not trouble herself with this 
care. Her brother had passed his youthful years 
and was now a judicious man ; he had well con- 
sidered what he took in hand, and had already- 
given sufficient proof, that the grace of God had 
moved and drawn him to this estate, and His 
Divine Providence had guided him to this order ; 
and that from having been a remarkable courtier, 
he gave confidence to become a notable Carthu- 
sian. " If it be so," answered she, ** blessed be 


God, and blessed the day, in which he was born, 
that hath made so wise choice, so contrary to my 
opinion. I may then say, the happy lot is fallen 
upon him." 

With that, the Prior commanded Brother 
Sebastian to be called ; who being come before 
his sister, tears gave her not leave to speak. It 
was not so much the alteration of his person and 
habit which did move her, as his gesture, his 
retired speech, his grave humility and modesty 
astonished her ; he so demeaning himself, as if 
he had been all his life in the monastery. With 
this she rested so content, as she could wish no 
more ; for this she reported herself. Growing more 
tender with this unexpected joy, she took her 
leave of the Father Prior, and the novice-monk, 
her brother, commendinjg to Almighty God his 
perseverance in that happy estate, and herself, 
and hers to their good prayers. Worthy Sebas- 
tian went so forward, and profited in his religion 
and studies, as he took holy Orders, and was 
made Priest. 

The king blinded with his sensual humour, 
made a quarrel against the Apostolic See, that 
would not give allowance to his divorce. He 



attempted an utter breach, and disclaimed all 
obedience, rending himself and the kingdom from 
the unity of the Catholic Faith, and making it 
high treason to acknowledge obedience to the 
Apostolic See of Rome. Holiness of life now 
began to be suspected as dangerous; religion 
oppressed ; good men evil entreated and afflicted ; 
and all things in a manner without term of reason 
or justice in religious matters. When goodly 
and virtuous men perceived and felt this, and 
namely the Fathers of the Charterhouse; w^ho 
began to bewail the evils and miseries of the 
times, (which never standing at a stay daily 
spread further) ; they therefore did shortly expect 
some sorrow to fall upon themselves in particular. 
For, when the king had published that profane 
and sacrilegious law, — commanding all to 
acknowledge and to swear that he was the 
Supreme Head of the Church within his Dom- 
inions, (a law that was never heard of before in 
any Christian Commonwealth) supposing, that 
it would seem harsh to wise and intelligent men, 
— he advised with his counsel ; and resolved first 
to draw to his will such as were of note, for 
either their good life or learning. If these were 


once gained, on whom the eyes of others were set, 
others might the more easily be brought and 
drawn to pretended submission. 

Upon this device, having found by trial that 
fair promises and sweet persuasions prevailed 
nothing upon men constant in God's service, the 
king determined by violence and cruelty to force 
them to it. Whereupon, his wicked and sacri- 
legious ministers, set first upon the Fathers of 
the Charter House of London, in which mon- 
astery at that time were two other priors of the 
Carthusians, about business of the convents of 
their order; namely, Father Robert Lawrence, 
Prior of Beverly; and Father Augustine Webster, 
Prior of Hexham ; with the Prior of the same 
house of London, Father John Haughton. All 
of these were very grave men, known to be men 
prudent, virtuous, and learned. With these three 
they first began by propounding to them the 
published edict of the King's Supremacy, to 
swear and subscribe to it. The venerable fathers 
answered : ** This is a strange question to us, 
and unheard of before ; " for that they had not 
read nor known the like example in the Church 
of God ; which, in spiritual causes, is first to be 
heard, being the Spouse of our Lord Jesus Christ, 


guided and directed by His Holy Spirit; to which 
the laws of men ought to be subordinate. Sir 
Thomas Cromwell (who was Vicar General for 
the king in spiritual matters, and chief com- 
missioner in this business) replied, reviling them 
with very base and scurril terms, calling them 
Knaves and Traitors in refusing it ; and pressing 
them to swear entirely and distinctly to all that 
was demanded, whether the Law of God per- 
mitted it, or not permitted it. The Fathers 
excused it, saying : ** that they were priests and 
sons of the Catholic Church, whose doctrine 
they must follow and obey Her precepts." The 
impious Vicar answered, " I have nought to do 
with your Church ; if you will not submit your- 
selves to the king's law, I will persecute you, and 
your order, nor will I leave until I have destroyed 
you all." But these good Fathers, choosing 
rather to displease the king than God, were with 
two other priests, carried to prison ; where after 
much vile entreaty, and divers examinations, 
they were brought after five days to the bar, and 
condemned to death. On the 4th of May in the 
year 1535, they were in their religious habits 
drawn to Tyburn, there hanged, cut down while 
they lived, and quartered, and their quarters were 


set upon the gates of the City, and those of the 
Prior of London, upon the gates of his own 

Three weeks following, on the 25th of May, 
when these cruel ministers of justice saw that 
this savage handling of the foresaid fathers 
availed nothing to quail or lessen the courage 
and constancy of the rest, they took other three 
prisoners of the house of London, Father Sebas- 
tian Nudigate, Father Humphery Middlemore, 
Vicar of the convent, and Father William 
Exmew, Procurator, both of them learned in the 
Greek and Latin tongues, and greatly respected 
in their order. Although they were not very 
aged in years, yet they were ancient and reverent 
in their deportment and of a gravity and holy 
conversation. These three fathers they drew 
out of the cloister with inhuman violence, led 
them to the Marshalsea, where they kept them 
fourteen days bound to pillars, standing upright, 
with iron rings about their necks, hands, and 
feet. This cruel usage was caused to force them 
to yield to the king's pleasure, and to subdue 
them, if. possible, to subscribe to the law of his 
supremacy. When the king understood their 
constancy, supposing he had some interest in 


Father Sebastian, he went disguised to the prison 
to speak with him. He called for him, gave him 
to understand the care he had of him, seeing he 
came in person to visit him, and to advise him 
not wilfully to destroy himself, knowing the 
danger of the law, and what others of his pro- 
fession had suffered for their contempt and 
disobedience. He added the many graces and 
favours he had done him ; his ingratitude to be 
of the number of those few, who, like traitors, 
denied to conform themselves, as many others 
both religious and all of the nobility had done ; 
which obstinacy could not be excused. He told 
him that he was like to suffer greater torments 
if he did continue in his folly and would not 
apply himself to what he demanded, being bound 
to obey his Lord and King, and do what he 
commanded; ''which, (saith the king) if thou 
wilt do, thou shalt see that I have will to do thee 
all favours, and power to accomplish them." A 
mighty temptation and great encounter. 

The good Father answered : ** I must ac- 
knowledge this for a special and great honour, 
yea far greater than my unworthiness can 
deserve, that your Majesty hath vouchsafed, in 
so undecent a lodging, to visit your poor servant, 


and so poor a Religious. I confess I have 
received many great favours of your Majesty. 
God Almighty reward you, which I daily ask of 
His Divine Majesty; and I shall, while I live, 
pray for your health and prosperity, and for the 
happiness of your kingdom. I am a Religious 
man, and therefore more obliged sincerely to 
speak the truth. The desire to save my soul, 
which our Lord Jesus Christ redeemed with so 
great cost as the price of His Life, and the 
shedding of His most precious Blood, insinuating 
and dictating to my soul the hazards and dangers 
of the world, to retire myself from them (other- 
wise my demerits might suddenly have overthrown 
me) to this port of Religion, wherein I daily 
commend, as all of our order do, the welfare 
and life of your Majesty to Almighty God, to 
multiply His graces towards you, and prosper 
you with all desired felicity; taking the same 
our Lord Jesus Christ for witness, that it is 
neither contempt, nor obstinacy, nor discontent, 
nor intent of gainsaying, nor counsel of any that 
hath power to withdraw my submission to the 
law, or to make me not to yield to the oath 
propounded, but the doctrine of the Holy Church 
and the Law of God, the offence whereof I may 


not incur." The king would have no more ; but 
went away in a great rage threatening and 

After fourteen days that these good fathers had 
suffered this cruel torture, they were brought 
before certain Lords of the Privy Council, ex- 
amined apart, and again demanded concerning 
this new Law of Supremacy, which, they said, 
had banished all foreign authority. Their 
answer was, " that the authority of the Church 
was not foreign in any Christian country ; and 
that in no sort could they yield to any thing not 
agreeable to the Law of God, or contrary to the 
doctrine of our holy Mother the Church." 

After divers examinations, promises and 
threats, finding them still constant, and that 
they could not be brought to any consent in 
this matter, they were sent as prisoners to the 
Tower of London, where they remained some 
eight days. The king being there, set again upon 
Father Sebastian, not with mild speeches as 
before, but with menaces and injurious words. 
Notwithstanding, this undaunted Confessor hears 
him with patience, and answereth : ** When in 
Court I served your Majesty, I did it loyally 
and faithfully; and so continue still your humble 


servant, although kept in this prison and bonds. 
But in matters that belong to the Faith and 
the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ, to the 
doctrine of the Catholic Church and the salva- 
tion of my poor soul, your Majesty must be 
pleased to excuse me." The King replies : 
" Art thou wiser and holier than all the Eccle- 
siastics and Seculars of my kingdom ? " He 
answered: "I may not judge of others; nor 
do I esteem myself either wise or holy, being 
far short in either; only this I assure myself 
that the Faith and doctrine which I profess is 
no new thing, nor now invented, but always 
among the faithful, held for Christian and 
Catholic. We must obey God rather than 

The king, having this resolute answer, would 
not use further discourse, but called him traitor ; 
and, marvellously enraged, told him he should 
suffer for such a one. No device or battery 
could make any entrance into that valourous 
breast armed with the Spirit of God, resting 
immovable like a firm rock, remembering the 
Divine counsel of the Psalmist : " Put not your 
trust in princes nor in children of men, in whom 
there is no salvation : " and like to that immortal 


Macchabee who did not fear to say even to the 
face of King Antiochus : " We will not obey the 
king's precept, but the law of the Lord which 
is given unto us." 

On the i8th of June, these three fathers were 
brought to Westminster to be tried before the 
Judges ; where being indicted of high treason 
for refusing to subscribe and swear to the new- 
exacted oath of the King's Supremacy, they were 
again examined and demanded whether they 
would relent, and shew their obedience as other 
subjects did. They answered alike, that in that 
case, they neither could, nor would, nor ought 
to do it ; citing and alleging divers authorities 
of the Divine Scripture, of the ancient Fathers, 
and of the Sacred Canons; proving and con- 
firming that no temporal Prince can lawfully 
arrogate to himself the Church's government 
which the King of kings and Supreme Lord 
Christ Jesus gave and granted only to St. Peter 
and his Successors. They understanding and 
confessing this to be commanded by the Word 
of God, it were temerity and sin to go from this 
Faith, or to oppugn it. They were ready to have 
declared this with a grave and learned discourse 
if they had been permitted ; still showing a firm 


resolution and valorous constancy in this doctrine. 
The Judges seeing no remedy, proceeded against 
them according to the form of their Laws, re- 
mitting them to a Jury of twelve men, by whom 
they were judged Guilty and convicted of high 
treason. But before the Judge would pronounce 
sentence of death, he used many reasons and 
persuasions now at last to yield and conform 
themselves; assuring them, upon submission, 
of the king's mercy, and withall wishing them 
to consider of the loss of so many good parts 
which might be serviceable to God and beneficial 
to their country. He spoke of the hastening of 
their end with an infamous death ; the grief of 
their friends; the scandal of their kindred. In 
particular he addressed himself to Father Sebas- 
tian, repeating to him the nobility of his blood, 
the honourable allies he had in that kingdom, 
the duty he owed to his Majesty having been 
his servant ; the many favours he had received 
from him ; which if they would consider and be 
submissive, he did assure them there was place 
for mercy and pardon. But no persuasions could 
move minds so generous and so fixed in the love 
of God ; who desired nothing more than to die 
for His cause, and to shed their blood for the 


Catholic Faith. They made little reckoning 
of these vain and worldly considerations, and 
with great courage and constancy expected the 
sentence, which then was given in this manner : 
That they were found guilty of high treason, 
were to return to the place from whence they 
came and from thence to be drawn to the place 
of execution, where they were to be hanged ; and 
then presently to cut the halter ; their bowels 
to be pulled out ; their bodies to be quartered 
and the quarters to be set up where the Justice 
should dispose them. 

The Reverend good Fathers heard and received 
this cruel sentence, answering with alacrity of 
countenance '* Deo Gratias,'* giving praise to our 
Saviour Jesus Christ for this gracious favour to 
make them worthy to suffer for His Faith and 
the defence of His Church. So they were 
returned to the prison : and the next day (the 
19th of June) the sentence was executed. These 
blessed Fathers were then taken out of the 
prison, were laid stretched along bound upon 
hurdles and so drawn with horses through the 
streets of London to Tyburn, the place of execu- 
tion. It was a lamentable spectacle to see 
innocent Religious men in their venerable 


habits, for profession of the ancient Catholic 
Faith to be thus handled by such as professed 
themselves Christians. 

' Being arrived at the place of execution, they 
praised Almighty God. They were . patient to 
perform what the officers commanded ; willingly 
and joyfully offering their bodies to that cruel 
and inhuman death for the honour of the Faith 
of Christ and the unity of His holy spouse the 
Church. No reason (for many were used and 
urged) availed to make any change in their minds 
or wills to obey the king's law. They untied 
Father Sebastian from the hurdle with the rope 
about his neck, put him in the cart ; there he 
commended himself to the prayers of the good 
assistants; prayed for the king that God Almighty 
would give him long life and health, and His 
grace to have care of his salvation and of the 
good of his kingdom that had flourished so long 
in Christian Religion, and in the unity and obe- 
dience of Christ's Catholic Church. He intimated 
his own innocence both to the King and all the 
world, and that his death was only for the 
testimony and defence of the Catholic Faith, as 
their judges could do no less than testify. And 
so preparing himself to die said in Latin the 


Psalm : " In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped, let me 
never be confounded," to the verse, " Into Thy 
Hands I commend my spirit: Thou hast re- 
deemed me, O Lord, the God of truth." Then 
the cart being drawn away he remained hanging 
a very little or no space ; for both he and the 
other two Fathers were cut down, being yet alive ; 
. presently bowelled ; their . bowels cast into the 
fire, their heads cut off, their bodies quartered 
and their quarters set up in the high ways and 
upon the gates of London. And in executing 
this barbarous cruelty upon such innocent persons, 
also was added this inhumanity, the second that 
was executed was made to stand to behold the 
death and the bloody slaughter of the first ; and 
the third of them both, and this tyranny to see 
the bloody rending of their dear brethren. 

This was the violent death but most happy 
t^nd of Father Sebastian, an approved valorous 
gentleman, a perfect Religious, and a glorious 
Martyr of Christ Jesus. He was a singular 
honour oi his house and an immortal renown of 
his family. For in nothing that doth illustrate 
the house of the Duchess (although descended 
from great Princes) is her blood more honoured 
ihan in this her kinsman and uncle, so illustrious 


and famous a martyr, so worthy a Religious, and 
so constant a servant of Christ Jesus; who in 
the first risings and oppositions against the 
Catholic Faith in our country so valiantly stood 
for it, and for the defence thereof sealed it with 
his blood and life. 

This gentleman, as he has been described to 
me, was somewhat tall of stature, his body well 
proportioned and comely, his aspect lively and 
settled. He had great courage ; his behaviour 
was pleasing, carrying it with a natural honesty 
and remarkable modesty. But after that he 
became a Religious, these parts of nature and 
education were much magnified by those of grace 
and piety, as hath been showed. 



The elder sister of this glorious martyr was the 
virtuous lady we now treat of, the grandmother 
of the Duchess. Another sister was married to 
Sir Leonard Chamberlain of Oxfordshire, mother 
to the Lady Stonor, renowned for her zeal in 
Catholic Religion, whom I saw, (being a boy), in 
Oxford, convented there before the Judges for her 
recusancy about the 23rd or 24th year of Queen 
Elizabeth.^ When she was reproved for her 
constancy in the Catholic Religion, (which was 
punishable by the laws of England,) she answered : 
" I was born in such a time when Holy Mass 
was in great reverence, and brought up in the 
same Faith. In King Edward's time this 
reverence was neglected and reproved by such as 

1 That is, about a.d. 1581 or 1582. 


governed. In Queen Mary's, it was restored 
with much applause; and now in this time it 
pleaseth the state to question them, as now they 
do me, who continue in this Catholic profession. 
The state would have these several changes, 
which I have seen with mine eyes, good and 
laudable. Whether it can be so, I refer it to 
your Lordships* consideration. I hold me still to 
that wherein I was born and bred ; and find no- 
thing taught in it but great virtue and sanctity ; 
and so by the grace of God I will live and die in 
it." This answer seemed to amaze the judges, 
spoken with great confidence ; so they dismissed 
her upon ordinary sureties. This lady was 
generally noted for her rare devotion and marvel- 
lous abstinence, being widow even to her death. 
Two other Sisters were Religious, one was 
Abbess of the Monastery of Sion by Brentford in 
Middlesex, who were of the holy order of St. 
Bridget, and yet continues entire in Lisbon and 
Portugal, brought out of England by the Lady 
Duchess when she came thence into Flanders ; 
and there placed for some years until they remov- 
ed to Spain. The other sister was of the order 
of St. Dominic. Both of them were exemplars 
for government and sanctimony of life. Two of 


their brothers were Knights of Rhodes, of the 
order and habit of St. John. In the year 1522 
Rhodes was bravely besieged by Solyman, the 
great Turk, and valiantly defended by the Chris- 
tian Knights of that Order, in which war both 
these brothers spent their lives. 

The wisdom and virtue of Jane Dormer's 
grandmother were likewise well apparent in 
what she did, in marrying her son. Sir .William. 
For when she saw the corruption of the state of 
this kingdom, and that those who by their au- 
thority and greatness should have been defenders 
of justice and religion, did seem to affect the 
contrary, her desire was to marry him with 
some virtuous gentlewoman answerable in 
quality. Sir Robert Dormer, her husband, 
liked it well, referring to her the charge of it, 
and wished her so to dispose it before the king 
should take notice of him, and hinder their 
intention by his command. For being their only 
child and heir to a great patrimony, many 
courtiers sought to him to marry their daughters 
with him, amongst whom Sir Francis Brien, a 
notorious favourite of the king; who much 
pretended to have him for husband to his niece, 
Jane Seymour. The power of this knight by 


his privacy with the king was great, whom to 
gainsay, there was more use of prudence than 
will, when he seriously treated the business of 
this marriage with Sir Robert Dormer, the father. 
In the interim that this treaty was entertained 
between them two, the mother, detesting the 
conditions of this knight, took her son and rode 
up to London to Sir William Sidney's house, 
having before made an overture to the Lady 
Sidney, who was well pleased. There the two 
ladies made up the match between the son of 
the one and the eldest daughter of the other. 
Which when Sir Francis Brien understood, 
seeing his pretence deluded was ill-pleased ; but 
the lady took the business and blame upon 
herself, assuring him that she had treated the 
matter before with the Lady Sidney and could 
not go back. When he solicited the marriage 
for his niece, he sent them word that they should 
see his niece as well bestowed. For he, carrying 
her up to the Court, placed her with the Lady 
Anne Boleyn, the Queen, in whose service the 
king affected her, for which there was often 
much scratching and bye blows between the 
queen and her maid. In the end queen Anne 
Boleyn was imprisoned, condemned and beheaded 


for foul adultery. The next day after, the king 
married the Lady Jane Seymour, and had by 
her the king his son. The Lady Dormer in 
this prudent and valorous act shewing the 
singular afifection that she had to piety and 
Christian Religion, and the respect she had 
to chaste and honest conditions, to have her 
son matched in a kindred of good fame, that 
neither the power of so great a favourite nor 
the gaining of so mighty a friend in Court, nor 
the present possession of a great dowry, nor 
the hopes of increase of honours, wealth and 
advancement by his means, nor the fear of 
inconveniences, that his displeasure might 
procure, could move this lady to marry her son 
with his niece who had made shipwreck of his 
Faith and honesty. 

After King Henry died, when the child King 
Edward began to reign, the observance of 
Catholic piety was put to flight and abolished, as 
far as the public government could prevail, and 
heresy and schism brought in place. In order 
that it might take the deeper root, apostate 
■priests and friars from foreign parts, with all 
their wives, were entertained in this kingdom, 
and sent to be public Preachers in the Uni- 


versities, and to teach heresies. If any pious or 
learned Catholic gainsaid (as many did) the 
doctrine of these outlandish apostates, they were 
persecuted, put to silence, deprived of their 
livings, imprisoned, or banished. This good 
lady, grandmother to the Duchess of Feria, 
whose house was a refuge to such persecuted 
men, gave them sustenance and security for their 
bodies; and received from them food and sus- 
tenance for the soul of herself, family, and 
neighbours. Notice hereof being taken by the 
Lady Mary, she did not a little favour her and 
hers, who, when she came to be Queen, this lady 
coming to her, she again remembered this hospi- 
tality, and very particularly thanked her for that 
charity, calling her the sustainer of the Catholic 
Faith. She, then commending to her Majesty 
divers of those good men, the Queen provided 
for all, entertaining some for her chaplains, and 
gave to others bishoprics, and other dignities. 
Such were the worthy persons to whom this good 
Lady gave hospitality. 

If I should enter into particular discourse, 
what passed with this Lady in her charity and 
hospitality, it would contain many leaves of 
paper. For, wife and widow, being Lady of her 


house the space of three score years, it was her 
daily practice to give alms and to do pious works, 
as is confirmed by that which happened in this 
king's reign by the fame of her hospitality and 
charity. For, many disgusted with this strange 
change of Religion, and nothing yet established 
for the common service of God (so long were 
they hammering for five or six years a settled 
church-service and could not hit upon it, to the 
iking of all these heads) the people were also 
discontented with the political government. The 
great ones banded against each other and sought 
to destroy one another. Divers that had authority 
and command in their country, took advantage of 
the times and appropriated to themselves divers 
grounds, that were common, and useful to the 
public. Inferior gentlemen, who were rich and 
had more power than their neighbours, following 
the example of their great masters, took also 
into their particular possession some fields and 
pastures which had been common to the neigh- 
bourhood. The people in many places grieving 
and complaining of their wrongs, as they termed 
them, and hoping of no redress by authority, in 
supdry shires took the matter into their own 
hands to revenge themselves of these public 


injuries; and seditiously growing together took 
up arms, menacing and exclaiming against the 
practisers of these evils. They made spoil and 
havoc, wheresoever they came, pulling up hedges, 
breaking down pales, filling up ditches, robbing 
houses and committing other infinite disorders, 
so that gentlemen were either forced to leave 
their houses or with help of their neighbours so 
to be guarded and strengthened as they might be 
able to keep their houses and defend themselves 
against the attempts of this fury. 

To this Lady's house repaired many of all 
sorts, from the villages round about, with their 
wives and children, and the best moveables they 
had ; but all, with arms offering to defend her 
person and to guard her house. The good Lady 
welcomed them with many thanks, knowing that 
in such furious tumults there is little regard or 
respect to law or justice ; and so fortified her 
house with such strength and order as was con- 
venient. Which when the rebels understood, 
and the provisions she had made for her defence; 
they sent her this message. That her Ladyship 
should have no pain nor fear, for that her charity 
and good works, known to the whole country, 
were a sufficient guard and preservation of her 


person and family, being renowned for her hos- 
pitality and Christianity. They came not (as they 
said) to spoil or do any hurt, but to restore to the 
Commons that which was their own. Those 
great fellows, who without justice, and those rich 
ones, who without conscience, had appropriated 
to themselves what belonged to the people in 
common ; these men were the marks they shot 
at ; and they should suffer the penance of their 
cruelties and oppressions. And, as they promis- 
ed, without doing any harm, more than going 
through her grounds and treading the grass, they 
marched forward, not doing nor offering the least 
occasion of wrong or offence to any person or 
goods belonging to her. Whereas in the parks 
and lands of the gentlemen round about her they 
made miserable spoil and committed many vio- 

When it pleased God to take from this world 
Sir Robert Dormer, her husband, having been 
married about forty years, her son Sir William 
Dormer had been married to a second wife, after 
he had been widower nine years. He had by his 
first wife (as hath been said) only two daughters, 
and now had by this second a son, (who is now 
the Lord Dormer) who was of the age of five 


months when his grandfather died. This Lady 
now a widow, being, disburdened of the obliga- 
tions of a wife, did according to the counsel of 
St. Paul, attend with more liberty to the service 
of God. In both estates she showed herself an 
imitable pattern for noble women to follow and 
a mirror to behold. For, being married, she had 
care, (as is shewed) to accomplish that which 
appertained to the duty of a wife, by living 
always in grateful love and due respect of her 
husband ; by governing her house in good order, 
by directing her family with praiseable discretion, 
by bringing up her son and grand-children (who 
had lost their mother) in virtue ; and in fine, she 
behaved herself like a provident, wise and pru- 
dent lady and a careful good mother. In her 
widow's estate, she retired herself somewhat 
more from the encumbring of worldly affairs, 
retaining some care yet, as one well experienced, 
of her son's estate. She had her jointure and 
living, severed from his, being sufficient and 
answerable to the quality of the person, which 
she well employed. She spent much time in 
prayer and devotion, and never failed, (having 
health,) at divine service. Her labours and 


exercises were for the Church, and to do good to 
such as were in necessity. 

It was not long after the death of Sir Robert 
Dormer, her husband, that King Edward died; to 
whom succeeded the Catholic Princess, Queen 
Mary, who obtained a renowned victory without 
fighting or shedding much blood against the 
Duke of Northumberland, who had set up his 
daughter-in-law, the Lady Jane Grey.^ In this 
noise and tumult of war, to put down the right 
Queen and maintain the usurper. Sir William 
Dormer, this Lady's son, called friends and 
gathered strength to assist Queen Mary. Upon 
occasion, he went with them to Aylesburj", under- 
standing that the Earl of Bedford would be there 
with his adherents for the county of Buckingham 
to proclaim the Lady Jane. Mr. Dormer encoun- 
tering him there, told him plainly, " My Lord, 
we cannot hear of any Queen but the Lady 
Mar}*; and he that presumes publicly to name 

» A proclamation of Jane Grey as Queen requiring the 
persons therein addressed to proceed in her behalf to suppress 
the a^lvancement of Mary's supporters in Buckinghamshire, 
may be seen in Hare. M.S. 416. fol. 30. It is dated at the Tower 
of London, 18 July, in the first year of her reign. See the Chron- 
icle of Queen Jane by J. G. Nichols, p. 109. 


any other, shall do it to his cost." This so 
affrighted the Earl that he durst not attempt 
what was enjoined ; and he retiring, Mr. Dormer 
went with his friends and followers to attend 
Queen Mary. This did he for his zeal to Right 
and Justice, not respecting alliance or kindred, 
for, his first wife, that was mother to the duchess, 
was cousin german removed to the Lady Jane* 
For this service and for the great charity of his 
mother to Catholic learned men in King Edward's 
days, (as hath been said) he was much favoured 
by the Queen, who appointed him one of the six 
Knights of the Bath in her coronation ; she also 
had his daughter the Duchess in her [service, 
whom she much loved and esteemed, as hereafter 
shall be more particularly declared. 

In this Queen's reign, which was a few months 
more than five years, this Lady remained with her 
son, continuing her piety among her neighbours. 
But when this virtuous and Catholic [Queen 
died, there died with her the upholding of piety 
and religion in England. For in the year 1558, 
Queen Elizabeth succeeding, altered the govern- 
ment, entertained heresies ; the defenders] of 
them being her chief counsellors and com- 
manders. This good Lady seeing this lament- 



able alteration, although full of years, such was 
her zeal and love to the observance of true 
religion, as she left house, son, country, and 
friends ; choosing rather a banished life to serve 
freely Almighty God than to remain in a kingdom 
so perverted and corrupted. With this Christian 
and zealous purpose in the year 1559, she passed 
the seas with her granddaughter, the Duchess 
of Feria, into Flanders. And a little before the 
Duchess parted from Mechlin for Spain, she went 
to Louvain, there to keep a house and settle 
herself ; where resided many worthy and learned 
English priests, exiled for not conforming them- 
selves to the new and heretical injunctions of 
England. There she lived the rest of her yeai*s 
(which were about twelve) with so great fame of 
virtue, piety, charity, and other Christian works, 
as not only that town and university but the 
country about did much reverence and honour 
her ; and she is yet among the old people that 
knew her, remembered with renowned com- 
mendation. Yea, such were her works of 
liberality and piety as the learned Doctor 
Sanders in his book entitled "Visibihs monar- 
chia Ecclesise,"^ praiseth her as an eye-witness 
2 P. 70S, ed. Lovan. 1571. 


in these words : " The noble widow the Lady 
Jane Dormer, grandmother of the most illustrious 
Duchess of Feria, when she saw her country 
overrun by heresy, willingly exiling herself, hath 
so lived in Louvain for these twelve years as not 
only she hath kept herself from all schism, but 
also hath been a foot to the lame, an eye to the 
blind, a staif to the weak, a true mother of 
orphans, and a patroness of widows." Like 
another Dorcas she made many coats and 
garments for widows and poor people. When 
the Duke of Alva was general in those countries, 
his army was dispersed into divers towns, of 
whom there was a garrison of many soldiers in 
Louvain, who were pressed by necessity for want 
of clothes and meat. This good lady had pro- 
vided in her house, a chamber which was fraught 
with cassocks, doublets, hose, stockings, hats 
and shirts, for poor soldiers, of whom, at a time, 
she had clothed forty soldiers and thirty soldiers.® 
Which, when the duke understood, he gratefully 
acknowledged the great obligations to her love 
and charity by giving her extraordinary privileges 
and exemptions for herself, house, and company. 
He esteemed her in that degree, that when the 

• So the original 


magistrates of Louvain pretended any suit from 
the duke, they. took this readiest means and help 
by her assisting commendations, naming her 
their patroness and protectress. 

Always in the Holy Week on Maunday 
Thursday, this lady called together twelve 
widows, or rather poor women, washed their 
feet herself, gave every one a new gown, a smock, 
a little purse with money, and her dinner that 
day, and on Easter day following. Her house 
was a refuge and harbour for banished priests 
and Catholic gentlemen of her country; many 
poor students were daily relieved by her, as of 
this day some living, in my hearing have given 
grateful testimony. People of all conditions 
much respected her ; the greatest of titles, lords 
and ladies, often visited her, and had her in 
especial regard. The university and town of 
Louvain honoured her exceedingly, as the many 
courtesies she received from them in life, and the 
honour they did her after her death do well 

In the year 1571, the 7th of July, this lady 
(being about eighty years of age), left this natural 
life to live for ever with God Almighty. After 
having received with great devotion the holy 


Sacraments of the Church, she remained to the 
last hour in good sense, and judgment, with great 
quietness and security of conscience. She had 
ordained her testament ; bequeathed large alms 
to the poor, to colleges, to Religious, both men 
and women, of sundry monasteries ; had left her 
lands and rents to her son as heir of them, and 
the goods that remained, absolutely to the dis- 
posing of the duchess, her grand-daughter, to 
whom her affection was ever most particular; 
for naming her or writing to her, still used this 
term: *' My most dear and beloved daughter;'* 
as appears in her will, the copy whereof I have. 
Her soul she commended to Him Who created 
and redeemed it ; which, so full of good works no 
doubt and abounding with so many pious and 
Christian deeds of exemplar charity, ascended to 
Him without stay, as may morally be believed. 

Her body when it was buried, was done with 
the solemnity fitting her quality. Many orphans, 
widows, and poor people according to her testa- 
ment, were clothed, who attended the funeral. 
The prelates, doctors, regents, and chief of the 
university, the religious of all Orders, did go in 
their places. The gentlemen and magistrates of 
the town, accompanied likewise in their rank. 


with the rest of the mourners to the church of 
the Charter-house, where she was buried. And 
the next day following, a great number of the 
poor of the town (an example seldom seen, and 
worthy the consideration) assembled together at 
this lady's house; and every one, a candle lighted 
in their hands, went in orderly procession, the 
way that her body was carried the day before, to 
the Charter-house, bewailing their loss, and 
praying for her soul. Which action of their 
memorable love came from their own motive and 

She was buried, as I say, in the church of the 
Charter-house (where she could not be admitted 
in life by reason of her sex) in the middle of the 
choir, just before the High Altar; where also 
lieth buried with her, the body of the Lady Anne 
Hungerford, her grand-daughter, only sister by 
father and mother to the duchess, who thirty-two 
years after died in the same town of Louvain^ 
and there both lie reconded under a fair marble 
tomb, underset with marble pillars; their por- 
traitures cut very lively in alabaster at length 
lying upon the top. Epitaphs and escutcheons 
of their descent and matches were erected at 
the cost of the duchess, with an annual rent for 


ever of a hundred florins given by her to the 
same Charter-house paid out of the Town house 
of Antwerp. 

This Lady Hungerford, the year that her 
grandmother died, came out of England, being 
over the seas, before she understood of her death, 
whose Catholic piety and noble desires could not 
content her husband, Sir Walter Hungerford ; 
who albeit nobly descended, yet by base covet- 
ousness and disordered sensual living much 
blemished his person and worth. He did not 
entreat his lady as was due to his wife and a 
gentlewoman of her rank, whereupon she pre- 
tended his leave to go beyond seas to her 
grandmother, where she might have liberty of 
conscience and serve God freely. In this he, 
to have more liberty for his sensual appetites, 
and to avoid the troubles for her conscience, net 
unwillingly consented; and so, as I say, she 
passed to the Low Countries where she lived 
thirty-two years, with great example of true 
nobility and Christianity, much honoured for her 
rare parts of valour, and discretion, the memory 
whereof remains in Namur and Louvain, in 
which places she for the most part lived. 
Madam Margaret of Austria, Duchess of Parma, 


sister to King Philip II. of Spain, then Governess 
of these provinces for her brother, took much 
contentment in her conversation, knowing her to 
be the duchess' sister, honoured her with very 
special aifection, invited her often, commending 
to divers her noble behaviour and the worth of her 
parts such as she knew in very few women ; as 
the party who heard her highness speak it, told 
me. The governors and magistrates of the 
towns where she lived in all imminent dangers 
(for then the war in those parts was hot) took 
particular regard to her, came to her house, pre- 
sented all the security they could for her person, 
goods, and family; thereby assuring the great 
care they had of her safety. Such was the merit 
of her carriage. And when fears or dangers 
occurred, her courage and magnanimity were 
rare and generous. To gentlemen distressed and 
poor students, her liberality was marvellous, 
always compassionate, a great alms-giver, l^ 
this her exile she had the grief to lose her only 
son in the flower of his youth, in the state to 
marry, a gentleman of great hopes, very noble in 
condition, discreet and virtuous. A chastisement 
which Almighty God lays upon adulterers, from 
\Yhich crime, I wish his father had been innocent: 



SO his house might have continued in his blood, 
which now is dispersed. 

This Lady Hungerford passed out of this world 
on the 19th of December, 1603, full of good 
works, imitating the steps of her worthy grand- 

In testimony of the worth and great merits 
these two ladies, not only the ordinary but the 
public voices of the country proclaim it, and 
such as served them many years; but the 
writings and assertions of the principal and most 
learned of our nation, then beyond the seas, do 
avouch the same ; as for example that grave 
and learned Prelate, Dr. William Allen, after- 
wards Cardinal, Dr. Owen Lewis, Bishop of 
Cassano, Dr. Nicholas Sanders, Dr. Thomas 
Stapleton, both great writers and public readers 
of Divinity and others, to the number of fifty, 
who were petitioners to Pope Gregory the XIIL, to 
procure the duchess to be sent to the Low 
Countries. They, when treating the business 
with Cardinal Morono, their patron in the Court 
of Rome, and Protector of the English nation, 

* The MS. here gives ten lines of Latin poetry, being a copy 
of the verses engraven •• at the fore-end of her tomb." 


among other reasons that they allege in a com- 
mon letter, dated 28th December 1572, mention 
divers ^ favours, received from the duchess. 



Jane Dormer, brought up under so worthy a 
matron, in her infancy, beginning to be of under- 
standing, the first thing she learned was her 
duty to serve God, and her obedience to her 
father, grandfather, and grandmother, by con- 
forming herself with affectionate humility to 
their commands. This virtue she so embraced, 
as with rare respect it continued with her, even 
to the death of her grandmother, although 
exalted to a higher rank. And when she served 
Queen Mary, being of her bedchamber, she never 
neglected her duty and obedience to her grand- 
mother, never would do any matter of moment, 
without making her acquainted, and asking her 

* " Dr. Sanders was the bearer of this letter." MS. 


leave ; and what she was commanded or advised 
by her, that did she carefully obey. 

Before seven years she began to read the 
Primer, or as we call it, the Office of our Blessed 
Lady, in Latin ; and from that time, daily con- 
tinued it, having any possibility of health to the 
end of her life, which was sixty-seven years. In 
such curious works of the needle as gentlewomen 
learn, she attained a marvellous skill and perfec- 
tion. For I have seen samplers, and divers of 
her works, wrought with her own hands, very 
curious, rare, and excellent, so adjudged by such 
as were held great mistresses in such works. 
Also divers dressings for the altar, and ornaments 
for the priests and such as serve at the altar, very 
rich and sumptuous, of notable invention and 
variety, all wrought by herself. Together with 
these abilities, she always retained a commend- 
able modesty in all she did or spake. 

Her grandfather Sir William Sidney, whom 
the king, though still carried away by his own 
exorbitant passions, did choose to be tutor and 
governor of his son Prince Edward, when re- 
maining for a time at Ashridge, (which was not 
far from her grandfather Dormer's) sent for her 
to entertain some time with the prince. They 


were both near of one age, about six or seven 
years, the prince being only elder by three 
months; he desired her company, taking par- 
ticular pleasure in her conversation. Thither she 
was sent with her governess, passing her time 
with the prince, either in reading, playing, or 
dancing, and such like pastimes, answerable to 
their spirits and innocency of years, and in 
playing at cards, would use this speech, as it 
fell out : " Now Jane, your king is gone, I shall 
be good enough for you." 

I have heard them that were about the prince 
avouch it, that his inclination and natural dispo- 
sition was of great towardness to all virtuous 
parts and princely qualities ; a marvellous sweet 
child, of very mild and generous condition. 
Afterwards, when his father died, (he being but 
nine years of age), mischievous and heretical 
governors, contrary to his father's will, abused 
his tender age ; who ruling to effect their own 
ends notoriously injured the natural good inclin- 
ation of this gentle and noble prince. For, 
when he was king, in passing by the ruins of 
goodly monasteries, he demanded what buildings 
were those ? It was answered : That they were 
religious houses, dissolved and demolished by 


order of the king his father, for abuses. He 
replied : ** Could not my father punish the 
offenders, and suffer so goodly buildings to stand, 
being so great an ornament to this kingdom; 
and put in better men, that might have governed 
and inhabited them?" seeming to lament that 
lamentable course. And when the Lady Mary, 
his sister, (who ever kept her house in very 
Catholic manner, and order) came to visit him, 
he took special content in her company (I have 
heard it from an eye-witness) he would ask her 
many questions, promise her secrecy, carrying 
her that respect and reverence, as if she had 
been his mother. And she again in her discretion, 
advised him in some things that concerned him- 
self, and in other things that touched herself; in 
all shewing great affection and sisterly care of 
him. The young king would burst forth in tears, 
grieving matters could not be according to her 
will and desire. And when the duke his uncle 
did use her with straightness and want of liberty; 
he besought her to have patience until he had 
more years, and then he would remedy all. 
When she was to take leave, he seemed to part 
from her with sorrow ; he kissed her, he called 
for some jewel to present her, he complained tliat 


they gave him no better to give her. Which 
noted by his tutors, order was taken, that these 
visits should be very rare, alleging that they 
made the king sad and melancholy; and con- 
sulted to have afflicted her officers and servants ; 
for that contrary to the then made law, she had 
public Mass in her chapel, if they could draw 
any assent from the king. But he, upon no 
reasons, would eyer give way to it, and com- 
manded strictly that she might have full liberty 
of what she would. He sent to her, inquiring 
if they gave her any trouble or molestation, for 
if they did, it was against his will, and he would 
see her contented. But it was not safe, nor did 
it stand with prudence, as the times went, for 
the Lady Mary to complain. 

When Jane Dormer grew older, she was com- 
mended by her grandmother to the most noble 
and Catholic princess the Lady Mary, so per- 
suaded by her grandfather Sidney, whom two of 
his daughters had served before and died in her 
service, much favoured by her Highness for their 
virtue. When the queens (the wives of King 
Henry) had sought with much importunity to 
have them in their service they would by 
means leave the Lady Mary although the king 


himself requested it.^ In those days the house 
of this princess was the only harbour for honour- 
able young gentlewomen, given any way to piety 
and devotion. It was the true school of virtuous 
demeanour, befitting the education that ought to 
be in noble damsels. And the greatest lords in 
the kingdom were suitors to her to receive their 
daughters in her service. 

With the Lady Mary, Jane remained after the 
time, when by the death of King Edward the 
kingdom fell to her, and even till her decease out 
of this world. And being in her service was 
particularly favoured by her and affected ; with 
which she corresponded with all dutiful respect, 
so as seldom or never would the queen permit 
her absence. She slept in her bedchamber, many 
times with her ; she read^together with her our 
Lady's Office ; she committed to her charge and 
trust her usual wearing jewels and what else was 
of esteem to be commended to one of her bed- 
chamber. At table, she eat the meat that the 
hand of Jane Dormer carved for her, which is an 
evident argument and proof of her virtues when 

^ Ladies of the name of Mabel and Elisabeth Sydney are 
mentioned in Queen Mary's Household Book, pp. 119, 12O, 184, 




SO virtuous a princess, and of so admirable parts 
did so much favour and esteem her. 

This queen seldom went in progress except it 
were to the Cardinal's house at Croydon (for 
Cardinal Pole her kinsman was Archbishop of 
Canterbury) avoiding by all means to trouble and 
grieve her subjects in time of hay and corn 
harvest, when they had use of their horses and 
carts. And being at Croydon, for her recreation, 
with two or three of her ladies, she would visit 
Ihe poor neighbours, they all seeming to be the 
maids of the Court ; for then she would have no 
difference, and ever one of these was Jane. She 
would sit down very familiarly in .their poor 
houses, talk with the man and the wife, ask them 
of their manner of living, how they passed, if the 
officers of the Court did deal with them, as such 
whose carts and labours w^ere pressed for the 
queen's carriages and provisions.^ And among 
others, being once in a collier's house, the qtieen 
sitting by while he did eat his supper, on her 
demanding the like of him, he answered, that 
they had pressed his cart from London, and had 

« Various illustrations of Queen Mary's kindness and 
liberality towards the poor may be seen in her Privy Purse 
Expenses printed by Sir F. Madden, See p. 258. 


not paid him. The queen asked if he had called 
for his money. He said, yea, to them that set 
him awork, but they gave him neither his money 
nor good answer. She demanded ; " Friend," is 
this true, that you tell me ? " He said, " Yea," 
and prayed her to be a mean to the comptroller, 
that he and other poor men might be paid. The 
queen told him she would, and willed that the 
next morning about nine or ten o'clock, he should 
come for his money. She came no sooner to the 
Court, but she called the comptroller,^ and gave 
him such a reproof for not satisfying poor men, 
as the ladies who were with her, when they heard 
it, much grieved. The queen said that he had 
ill ofl5cers who gave neither money nor good 
words to poor men, and that hereafter he should 
see it amended, for if she understood it again, 
he should hear it to his displeasure; and that 
the next morning the poor men would come for 
their money, and that they should be paid every 
penny. Mr. Comptroller wondered how this 
came to the queen, and the ladies told him what 
had passed that evening. 

* Probably Sir Robert Rochester, who was appointed by the 
Queen at her accession and continued in office till his death in 
December, 1557, or Sir William Kingston, who died in 1541. 



In the visiting of these poor neighbours, if she 
found them charged with children, she gave 
them good alms, comforted them, advising them 
to live thriftily and in the fear of God, and with 
that care to bring up their children ; and if there 
were many children she took order they should be 
provided for, placing both boys and girls to be 
apprentices in London, where they might learn 
some honest trade, and be able to get their living. 
This did she in a poor carpenter's house, and the 
house of the widow of a husbandman. And in 
this sort did she pass some hours with the poor 
neighbours, with much plainness and affability ; 
they supposing them all to be the queen's maids, 
for there seemed no diffemce. And if any com- 
plaints were made she commended the remem- 
brance very particularly to Jane Dormer. 



These special favours that the queen shewed to 
Jane Dormer, together with the rare parts of her 
mind and person, were occasion that divers of 
the greatest worth and nobility did seek her for 
marriage ; as Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devon- 
shire, son of the Marques of Exeter, and cousin- 
german removed of the queen, whom the queen 
delivered from the Tower at her entrance there, 
at the same time with the other prisoners, the 
Duke of Norfolk, and the Bishops Bonner, 
Tunstall, and Gardner. This last bishop would 
have made the match, finding the Earl to have 
an affection to her ; and some were of opinion he 
did it to prevent his marriage with the Lady 
Elizabeth, whereof afterwards grew the greatest 
part of her troubles in Queen Mary's time. He 


did solicit the queen about the match, and dealt 
with the young lady, to have it effected. Also 
the Duke of Norfolk was a suitor to her, being 
at that time the only duke in England, and some 
others of great quality, which the Duke of Feria 
afterwards confesseth in his last will, making a 
petition for her to the king, tells him that she 
had refused greater matches than himself in her 
own country. The Earl of Nottingham that now 
is Lord Admiral, being of her years, and in that 
time calling her mistress, told me, when he was 
ambassador in Spain, in 1605, that she was the 
fairest and the sweetest woman of the world; 
and that the whole Court did admire her, and 
bear her a reverent respect, as well for her own 
worth, as for the esteem the queen did bear her. 
But Jane in these pretences would do nothing, 
without the consent of her Majesty, who had no 
great will to leave her, and would say in the 
treating of these matters, that Jane Dormer 
deserved a very good husband ; and would add 
further, that she knew not the man that was 
worthy of her. When it chanced that Jane was 
not well, as that she could not well attend upon 
the queen, it is strange the care and regard her 
Majesty had of her, more like a mother or sister 


than her queen and mistress. As in the last 
days of this blessed queen, she being at Hampton 
Court, and to remove to London, Jane having 
some indisposition, her Majesty would not suffer 
her to go in the barge by water, but sent her by 
land in her own litter, and her Physician to 
attend her. And being come to London, the 
first that she asked for was Jane Dormer, who 
met her at the stairfoot, told her that she was 
reasonably well. The queen answered " So am 
not I," being about the end of August, 1558, So 
took her chamber, and never came abroad again. 

At that time the king was in Flanders about 
his wars, made upon the frontiers of France, who 
understanding the Queen's sickness, being then 
with his army before Dourlens,^ sent away the 
Duke of Feria, to serve and assist her in all that 
should be requisite. It pleased Almighty God, 
that this sickness was her last, increasing daily, 
until it brought her to a better life. Jane was 
continually about the Queen, not yet married, for 
the Queen would not have her marry, until the 
king was returned from Flanders ; which oc- 
casioned the want of great gifts and rich endow- 
ments wherewith the Queen had determined and 

^ A fortified town, about eighteen miles north of Amiens. 


promised to honour the marriage, whereof did 
her Majesty complain. She finding herself lan- 
guishing to death, told Jane, she would have been 
glad to have seen her marriage had been effected 
in her days ; but God Almighty would otherwise 
dispose, and being sick and the king absent, she 
was not in case to do what she would. Her sick- 
ness was such as made the whole realm to 
mourn, yet passed by her with most Christian pa- 
tience. She comforted those of them that grieved 
about her ; she told them what good dreams she 
had, seeing many little children like Angels play 
before her, singing pleasing notes, giving her 
more than earthly comfort ; and thus persuaded 
all, ever to have the holy fear of God before their 
eyes, which would free them from all evil, and be 
a curb to all temptations. She asked them to 
think that whatsoever came to them was by God's 
permission ; and ever to have confidence that He 
would in mercy turn all to the best- 

From the time of her Mother's troubles, this 
queen had daily use of patience and few days of 
content, but only those that she established and 
restored the Catholic Religion to her kingdoms. 
While she was queen, in those few years, she 
suffered many conspiracies, and all out of mali- 


cious humours to God's truth. She gave com- 
mandment to all, both of her Council, and serv- 
ants, to stand fast in the Catholic religion ; and 
with those virtuous and Christian advices, still in 
prayer and hearing good lessons, receiving the 
holy Sacraments of the Church, left this world, 
which was the 17th day of November, 1558. That 
morning hearing Mass, which was celebrated in 
her chamber, she being at the last point (for no 
day passed in her life that she heard not Mass) 
and although sick to death, she heard it with so 
good attention, zeal, and devotion, as she ans- 
wered in every part with him that served the 
Priest ; such yet was the quickness of her senses 
and memory. And when the Priest came to that 
part to say, Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, she 
answered plainly and distinctly to every one, 
Miserere nobis, Miserere nobis, Dona nobis pacem. 
Afterwards seeming to meditate something with 
herself, when the Priest took the Sacred Host to 
consume it, she adored it with her voice and 
countenance, presently closed her eyes and ren- 
dered her blessed soul to God. This the duchess 
hath related to me, the tears pouring from her 
eyes, that the last thing which the queen saw in 
this world was her Saviour and Redeemer in the 


sacramental species; no doubt to behold Him 
presently after in His glorious Body in heaven. 
A blessed and glorious passage. Anima meacum 
anima ejus. 

This good queen had commended in private 
divers things to Jane Dormer to give to the Lady 
Elizabeth her sister, and to tell her who was to 
succeed her in the kingdom ; which she performed 
with dutiful fidelity, giving her the rich and pre- 
cious jewels, that were in her custody,^ which 
Queen Elizabeth willingly received, and sent her 
messages. These were to uphold and continue 
Catholic Religion, to be good to her servants, 
and to pay what might justly be required. But 
this of religion, I know not what reasons of base 
moment, or other circumstances of devilish 
policy had diverted her herein; notwithstanding 
before in the queen's sickness, she had faithfully 
promised the continuance; and all the reign of 
Queen Mary, the Lady Elizabeth did hear daily 
two masses, one for the living, another for the 
dead, seeming extraordinary devout to our Blessed 
Lady ; and in her troubles being examined about 
religion, she prayed God, that the earth might 

8 The delivery of the jewels is the subject of two memoranda 
in the Record Office, Domest, Eliz. VIII. 24. 


open and swallow her up alive, if she were not a 
Roman Catholic. And this is likewise confirmed 
by the duke of Feria his letter to the king, who 
in this sickness of the queen visited the Lady 
Elizabeth, certifying him, that she did profess 
• Catholic Religion, and believed the Real Pre- 
sence, and was not like to make any alteration 
for the principal points of religion. 

I will now speak somewhat of these two 
queens' births. And then of other passages of 
their lives, whereof only the truth shall be 
written, and most out of the testimonies of 
protestant writers. 

Queen Catharine was some five years older 
than the king, and very different in manners. 
She rose at mid-night to be present at the matins 
of the Religious. At five o'clock she made her- 
self ready with what haste she might, saying 
that the time was lost which was spent in ap- 
parelling herself. Under her royal attire she did 
wear the habit of St. Francis, having taken the 
profession of his Third Order. She fasted all 
Fridays and Saturdays and all the Eves of our 
Blessed Lady with bread and water. On Sun- 
days she received the Blessed Sacrament, read 
daily the Office of the Blessed Virgin, she was 


the most part of the morning in the Church at 
holy service and after dinner read the life of that 
day's Saint to her maids standing by. Then she 
returned to the Church. She was sparing in her 
supper. She prayed kneeling on her knees with- 
out cushions. She was affable in conversation, 
courteous to all, and of an excellent and pious 
disposition. This lady, a mirror of goodness, 
was afterwards brought into infinite troubles, so 
to be tried as that the sweet savour of her virtues 
might be diffused over the whole christian world. 
Henry the Eighth, weary (as it seems) of this 
good queen Catharine, after fifteen years' co-habi- 
tation, by the suggestion of Cardinal Wolsey begins 
to make scruple whether this marriage with the 
Lady Catharine was lawful, for that she had been 
before his brother's wife. Pope Julian the second 
gave lawful dispensation to make good the 
marriage. That learned and glorious martyr 
doctor John Fisher, the light not only of the 
kingdom of England but of the whole Christian 
world, when this divorce was in pleading, deliver- 
ed to the legates a paper most learnedly written 
in defence of the marriage, advising them not to 
seek a knot in a rush nor to suffer the manifest 
truth of Holy Scripture and Ecclesiastical laws, 


sufl5ciently seen and examined in this cause, to 
be perverted; but rather to consider again and 
again how great mischiefs would follow by this 
divorce, to wit, hatred between King Henry and 
Charles the Emperor, and the factions of the 
princes who would join them. And the most 
grievous of all, — dissensions in matters of faith, 
schisms, heretics and infinite sects. " I (said he) 
have in this matter laboured much and employed 
my utmost industry ; and I dare aflSrm what I have 
not only proved in this writing, and clearly taught 
by the testimony of the Sacred Scriptures and of 
Holy Fathers, but also am ready to testify it 
with the shedding of my blood, that there is no 
power on earth that can dissolve or disjoin this 
marriage, which has been joined by God Him- 

This with other learned and pious writings 
that the other advocates did present to the 
legates, although Cardinal Wolsey was one, did 
move them not to give sentence as the king 
desired and required ; nor would Clement VII., 
then Pope, give way to it, who then being at war 
with the emperor was offered by King Henry to 
maintain four thousand [men] in his wars 
against Cesar. So much did he desire this 




divorce to marry the Lady Anne Bullen. He 
sought all means by gifts and corruptions to most 
Universities to have their favourable opinions for 
this his desire. Cardinal Wolsey had it intima- 
ted, in regard to his note to the emperor, that the ' 
king might marry with the Lady Margaret, a 
very fair woman, the widow of the Duke of 
Alen9on and sister to Francis, the French king. 

Thomas Cranmer, chaplain to Sir Thomas 
Bullen, the supposed father of the Lady Anne, 
was a man to the king's own heart. He turned 
as the king pleased, flattered and followed him 
in all his demands. He pronounced the sentence 
of divorce by which Queen Catharine was to be 
called the princess dowager of Prince Arthur and 
Anne was to be held lawful queen. 

Mr. Camden conceals the time of the marriage 
of Anne Bullen, for that the Lady Elizabeth's 
birth was in four months after. I marvel that 
he tells not the time of the king's espousals with 
her, nor of her marriage and her coronation, she 
being the mother of her whose life and reign he 
published. He says only that she was bom 
7th September, 1533, at Greenwich. Queen 
Catharine was banished from the Court to 
Kimbolton, where living retired with her maids 


until 6th January, 1536, she left this mortal life. 
It is said that her days were shortened by the 
intemperature of the unwholesome air, but 
chiefly by the continual increase of griefs and 
calamities ; and some were of opinion, not with- 
out suspicion of poison, for the Lady Anne hated 
her extremely. When the king understood her 
death he shed tears and commanded all his 
household to wear mourning ; but his new wife 
did clothe herself in yellow, glad of her death 
that she died so quietly. Her body was buried 
at Peterborough. She never could be persuaded 
after her banishment from the Court to enter 
into a monastery, although most desirous of that 
life, nor to do anything that might be in prejudice 
of her marriage, although exposed to many 
injuries and manifest dangers. Nor could she be 
drawn to go into Spain, or into Flanders, whither 
she was invited by the emperor, her nephew, 
where she might have had most honourable 
entertainnTent. She applied these miseries and 
disasters to have specially happened for the death 
of Prince Edward Plantagenet, son of the Duke 
of Clarence, brother to King Edward the Fourth ; 
whom (most innocent) Henry VII. put to death 
to make the kingdom more secure to his pos-. 


terity, and to induce King Ferdinand to give his 
daughter, this Catharine, in marriage to Prince 
Arthur. Before her death she wrote two pious 
letters, one to the king, the other to Friar Foster, 
her ghostly father, then in prison, after with 
cruel tortures a glorious martyr. Thus ended 
this great queen and holy princess, renowned in 
all nations and magnified by most writers of 
those times. 

Within five months after. Queen Anne was 
brought to her reckoning for another world, but 
after a different life to her predecessor. It was 
passed most in masks, dancing, plays and such 
corporal delights, in which she had a special 
grace, — temptations to carnal pleasures and in- 
ventions to disgrace such and ruin them who 
were renowned for virtue. From the time that 
Queen Catharine was defended so stoutly and 
learnedly by the Bishop of Rochester she did 
seek by all means his destruction. One Richard 
Rice, a cook, was suborned to poison him, and he 
knew no other way to do it than to poison the 
common pot, which was fbr the whole household 
of the bishop. It chanced that that day accord- 
ing to his custom the bishop came not to dine in 
the parlour, but most of his family that dined 


there were poisoned and died thereof. Rice the 
cook being discovered did confess it and was 
publicly put to death for it. And when a gentle- 
man brought word to the king that Sir Thomas 
More was then beheaded, the king being at table, 
and the Lady Anne standing by, the king throw- 
ing away the dice showed anger and sorrow that 
he was troubled and Said to her, " This is long 
of you ; the honestest man of my kingdom is 
dead," and suddenly retired chafing. 

But to come to her death. The king seeming 
to affect Jane Seymour, and having her on his 
knee, as Queen Anne espied, who then was 
thought to be with child, she for anger and 
disdain miscarried, as she said, betwitting the 
king with it, who willed her to pardon him, and 
he would not displease her in that kind there- 
after. But the queen, much wanting to have a 
manchild to succeed, and finding the king not to 
content her, to have her purpose did accompany 
with her own brother. Lord George Bullen, 
Viscount Rochfort, Francis Weston, Henry 
Norris, William Brereton and Mark Sweton, a 
musician, all of the Privy Chamber, for which 
they all suffered death. Three days after that 
Anne Bullen herself was beheaded on 14th May, 


1536, the Duke of Norfolk sitting High Steward. 
She was convicted and condemned by twenty-six 
peers, whereof her father was one, who shortly 
after died of grief. She was not twenty-nine 
years of age. We see how different were the 
mothers of these two queens, and of the latter 
the father might be doubted, for Queen Mary 
would never call her sister, nor be persuaded she 
was her father's daughter. She would say she 
had the face and countenance of Mark Sweton, 
who was a very handsome man. But we will 
pass to their education. 

To speak briefly of the education and some 
passages of the life of Queen Mary, I should 
relate that she was bred under her virtuous 
mother, as well in princely splendour, as in true 
piety, to know and serve Almighty God and to 
have His holy fear before her eyes ; and afterwards 
was commended for her further education to the 
Countess of Salisbury, the mother of Cardinal 
Pole, and cousin german to the queen her grand- 
mother, a most pious and saint-like woman. 
She was declared Princess of Wales and heir 
of the kingdom ; so bred as she hated evil ; knew 
no foul or unclean speeches, which when her lord 

father understood, he would not believe it but 



would try it once by Sir Francis Brian, being at 

a mask in the court ; and finding it to be true, 

notwithstanding, perceiving her to be prudent and 

of a princely spirit, did ever after more honour 

her. It chanced once that she and the Lady 

Anne Boleyn at Eltham, heard Mass together in 

one room. At the end of Mass, the Lady Mary 

made a low courtesy and went to her lodging ; so 

did the Lady Anne, then called queen. When 

she came to her quarter, one of her maids told 

her that the Lady Mary at parting made reverence 

to her, she answered that she did not observe it ; 

and said, " If w^e had seen it, we would have 

done as much to her ; " and presently sent a lady 

of honour to her, to excuse it ; adding, that the 

love of none should be dearer nor more respected 

than hers, and she would embrace it with the 

kindness of a true friend. The lady that carried 

the message came when the Lady Mary was Sat 

down at dinner. When admitted, she said ; 

**The queen salutes your grace with much 

affection and craves pardon, understanding that 

at your parting from the oratory, you made a 

courtesy to her, which if she had seen, she would 

have answered you with the like ; and she desires 

that this may be an entrance of friendly corres- 


pondence, which your grace shall find completely 
to be embraced on her part." "It is not pos- 
sible," answered the Lady Mary, "that the queen 
can send me such a message; nor is it fit she 
should, nor can it be so sudden, her majesty 
being so far from this place. You would have 
said, the Lady Anne Boleyn, for I can acknow- 
ledge no other queen but my mother, nor esteem 
them my friends who are not hers. And for the 
reverence that I made, it was to the altar, to 
her Maker and mine ; and so they are deceived, 
and deceive her who tell her otherwise." The 
Lady Anne was maddened with this answer, re- 
plying, that one day, she would pull down this 
high spirit. 

Ludovicus Vives^ dedicated to her in the year 
1524, two hundred and thirteen Symbola, or short 
and intricate sentences, in few words, which we 
call commonly Mottoes, with paraphrasing upon 
every one of them. The first was, Scopus vitx 
Christus ; the last was, Mente Deo defixus. These 
she seemed to have in perpetual memory, by the 
practice of her whole life ; for she made Christ 
the beginning and end of all her actions, from 
Whose goodness all things do proceed, and to 

1 In his Epistle to the Lady Mary, from Bruges, ist July, 1524. 


Whom all things do tend, having a most lively 
example in her virtuous mother. 

All the neighbour-kings and princes did greatly 
desire her fOr marriage. James the Fifth, King of 
Scots, after, Charles the Emperor, offering pre- 
sently to give the possession of the whole Low- 
Countries ; then the French king for both his 
sons, first for the Dauphin, then for the Duke of 
Orleans ; whom when King Henry did not accept, 
for their tender age. King Francis offered himself 
to marry her ; such was the fame of her virtue 
and worth, in which for particular reasons of 
state, none of them succeeded. 

In King Edward's reign, when new Governors 
altered the religion, she could nor would not be per- 
suaded by any entreaties or threats of the Protector, 
or any others, to shut her oratory or keep close her 
chapel, which she had in her house, but openly to 
have Mass daily said, or suffer the least change 
in Catholic Religion. And when she saw the 
courses those new rulers took, in breaking her 
father's will, to which they were sworn before his 
death, she very courageously and roundly wrote 
to the Protector, admonishing him and the rest 
of the Council to look well what they did, not to 
abuse the king's minority in altering the laws, 


will, and ordinances of his and her father King 
Henry ; for in doing so they might be called to 
account about the same when the king her brother 
should come to full years. And withal she told 
them plainly, that they had no authority to make 
such alteration in so great matters as they did ; 
but rather to conserve things in the state left 
unto them by the king her father, according to 
the solemn oath they had sworn unto him before 
his death, that they would do so, especially about 
matters of Religion, until the king her brother 
came to lawful age. And when they did not dare 
publicly to persecute her, being the next to the 
crown, they took from her her chaplains, punish- 
ed them for not obeying the laws enacted ; where- 
of she complained to her brother and wrote to 
the Emperor how they dealt with her chaplains 
and servants. Which the Emperor took hardly 
that that could not be permitted to her, which 
was to all ambassadors of foreign Princes ; being 
their king's elder sister, and professing the Cath- 
olic Religion in which she was bred and no other 
known before those days in the kingdom of 



I NOW pass to the education of Queen Elizabeth. 
This would not be under her mother, for she was 
not three years of age when her mother died. 
She had been sworn princess of Wales a little 
after her birth, and the Lady Mary deprived. 
The king, shortly after her mother's death, in the 
beginning of the month of June called an as- 
sembly of the Bishops and a parliament, signify- 
ing how much it did displease and repent him 
of the wrong done his daughter Mary and the 
advancing of Elizabeth, Anne Boleyn's daughter; 
and would have it again as it was, and to con- 
stitute some certain faith and form of religion. 
For when Anne reigned all things were in 
confusion, a licentious liberty was among all, nor 
was it determined what they should believe or do 
in matters of religion. For she (miserable woman) 
was the first cause of the schism and bane of her 


country. Yet she was a princess of majesty 
and magnificence, and as one truly saith, fitter 
for greatness than devotion and of more policy 
than religion. Her sister Mary was no way 
inferior as far as was fit for so great a princess, 
only she was seventeen years older, but bred up 
in all good learning, especially in virtue and 
religion. Mr. Camden tells us that the Lady 
Elizabeth read Melanchthon's Common Places ; I 
would she had in place thereof read St. Augus- 
tine's Meditations, Confessions and Soliloquies ; 
and for lives and living in matters of policy the 
Saint's books De Civitate Dei. 

A great lady, who knew her very well, being a 
girl of twelve or thirteen, told me that she was 
proud and disdainful, and related to me some 
particulars of her scornful behaviour, which 
much blemished the handsomeness and beauty 
of her person. In King Edward's time what 
passed between the Lord Admiral, Sir Thomas 
Seymour, and her Dr. Latimer preached in a 
sermon, and was a chief cause that the Parlia- 
ment condemned tne Admiral. There was a bruit 
of a child born and miserably destroyed, but 
could not be discovered whose it was ; only the 
report of the midwife, who was brought from her 


house blindfold thither, and so returned, saw 
nothing in the house while she was there, but 
candle light ; only she said, it was the child of a 
very fair young lady. There was a muttering of 
the Admiral and this lady, who was then between 
fifteen and sixteen years of age. If it were so, it 
was the judgment of God upon the Admiral ; and 
upon her, to make her ever after incapable of 
children. But the Admiral in September before 
had buried his wife, Queen Catharine, who died 
in childbed of a daughter. And it seems the cuck- 
old then made no great reckoning of the Lady 
Elizabeth, for the great Lord Master was in 1550 
created earl of Wiltshire, which was the title and 
honour of her father, transporting it from her and 
from his blood. And when after the death of King 
Edward they set up the Lady Jane they rejected 
her, fearing only Queen Mary. The reason why 
I write this is to answer the voice of my country- 
men in so strangely exalting the Lady Elizabeth, 
and so basely depressing Queen Mary. 

Queen Elizabeth's troubles began in the second 
year of her sister's reign. She was suspected and 
accused to be assistant unto the rebellion of Sir 
Thomas Wyatt, for which she was first commit- 
ted to the Tower of London and afterwards re- 


moved prisoner to Woodstock. Most of the 
Council by the accusation of the delinquents and 
other prescriptions would persuade the queen to 
proceed against her by law ; but her goodness 
deferred it. 

When Philip was come into England and 
admitted king, finding the Lady Elizabeth to be 
thus restrained, he dealt with the queen to be 
merciful to her, and so delivered her not only 
from extreme punishment but procured her 
liberty to return to the Court. The remainder of 
her sister's reign she lived for the most part in 
her own house at Hatfield ; to which place when 
many suspected heretics and turbulent people 
repaired, it seemed fit to the Privy Council that 
the business should be no longer dissembled, but 
questioned and punished. But the king and the 
Spanish nobility favouring her, persuaded to 
defer the matter. It broke out more manifest 
the next year in March, when Sir Anthony 
Kingston, Richard Udall, John Throckmorton, 
John Daniel, William Stanton and others con- 
spired together, not without counsel of the 
French ambassador, to rob the king's treasure 
which was provided for the French war. When 
the matter was discovered by one of the con- 


spirators, some were taken and executed, others 
fled into France. Hereof by many prescriptions 
was the Lady Elizabeth held accessory ; which 
the queen's Council would have examined and 
chastised, but the king again protected her from 
this danger. It was consulted that two Catholic 
gentlemen should be sent to her to remain there 
and observe what passed, and so were sent Sir 
Thomas Pope and Mr. Robert Gage. But the 
lady by her wary carriage, her courteous be- 
haviour and cunning, and by her public profession 
of Catholic religion with shew of zeal, did deceive 
these gentlemen. Before the year was ended, 
underhand she had intelligence with Mr. Thomas 
Stafford, who then exiled in France suddenly 
coming into England should title himself king, 
(for that he was descended from the house of the 
dukes of Buckingham) and should marry with 
the Lady Elizabeth ; they supposing themselves 
strong enough against Queen Mary. It was 
not long before Mr. Stafford put this in execution ; 
for coming out of France only with forty men on 
24th April, 1557, and took Scarborough Castle, with 
hope that either the Lady Elizabeth would send 
her forces to fetch him, or with them to come to 
him herself. But when by the diligence of the 


Earl of Westmoreland he was intercepted, sent 
to London and beheaded, and some others of his 
faction hanged, the relics of this crime remained 
upon the Lady Elizabeth. It was her luck that 
at this time King Philip had returned from 
Flanders into England, by whose singular favour 
she again escaped this plunge. 

Queen Mary in her last sickness sent Com- 
missioners to examine her about religion, to 
whom she answered, *' Is it not possible that the 
queen will be persuaded I am a Catholic, having 
so often protested it ? " and thereupon did swear 
and vow that she was a Catholic. This is 
answerable to what Mr. Camden saith, and is 
likewise confirmed by the Duke of Feria's letter 
to the king, who in this sickness of the queen 
visited the Lady Elizabeth. He certified him 
that she did profess the Catholic religion and 
believed the Real Presence, and was not like to 
make any alteration for the principal points of 

Queen Mary's reign began 6th July, 1553. She 
returned all things that concerned the state of 
religion as her grandfather, King Henry VII., 
had left them, and as they had been continued 
by all Christian princes from the time when the 


Christian religion entered into England. She 
abrogated all statutes of innovations and new 
devices during the time of her brother and father, 
reducing all to the humble obedience of the 
faith. She punished divers of the heads of those 
innovations that had been made; and above 
others, the chief author of all, Thomas Cranmer, 
who entering as a Catholic, as was supposed, 
into that dignit}'', was the first archbishop that 
ever failed in faith from the rest that were before 
him and from the obedience of the See Apostolic. 
This queen forgave the subsidies granted in the 
last year of her brother, gave great alms to the 
poor, remitted the debts of such officers of her 
house as she found burthened, restored more 
noble houses decayed than ever did prince in 
England, and brought with her peace and plenty. 
In a word, for magnaminity and virtue she was 
the worthiest princess that this kingdom ever 
had ; and yet heresy had so enchanted the minds 
of divers of her subjects as in the five years of 
her reign she had more open and violent oppo- 
sitions of her own subjects than Queen Elizabeth 
had in the forty-five years almost that she reigned. 
Plain was the government of this queen, with- 
out tricks or new devices, severe to foul sinners 


against God and sharp to such as offended 
against the crown, to which she was more forced 
than by nature inclined. She was a great 
justicier, yet withal how merciful she was 
appeared manifestly by her gracious compassion 
to the Duchess of Somerset, to Sir John Cheke, 
Sir Edward Montague, Chief Justice, Sir John 
Cholmeley, the Marquis of Northampton, Sir 
Henry Dudley, Sir Francis Gates, the Lord 
Robert Dudley, and to the Duke of Suffolk ;— all 
of them her professed enemies and most of them 
attainted, all adverse to her religion and no 
friends to her title ; and yet she released them all 
out of the Tower, where they were prisoners. 

Yet the Protestants were still busy against her 
and gave her no quietness. They libelled against 
. the Government of Woman, published discourses 
and invectives against religion, and conspired her 
deprivation to advance her successor. All these 
sedicious actiohs had for their ground the religion 
then not fully six years old ; a religion of mere 
liberty, most pleasing to gallants, void of all 
austerities. They cried her down because so 
many were burnt in her time ; but she caused no 
new laws to be made against heretics but only 
recalled such as were used and of force in God's 


Church since the Christian religion was estab- 
lished in England. And when in any did concur 
the faults of heresy and treason, or felony, her 
will was that the law should proceed, heresy 
being directly offensive and immediately against 

Queen Mary having lived thirty-seven years a 
maid, for the good of her country, to leave issue 
married the noblest prince of Christendom, who 
brought wealth, honour, and the best alliance in 
Europe to the crown of England. Yet see what 
treasons and conspiracies did follow. Sir Thomas 
Wyat's rebellion in the east of England ; Sir 
Peter Carew, Sir Gawen Carew and Sir Thomas 
Dennie in the west; Sir James Croftes and others 
in Wales; the Duke of Suffolk (after he had 
been pardoned) in Leicestershire. Then, after 
that, the conspiracies of the Earl of Devonshire, 
Sir Nicholas Throckmorton and others. And 
William Thomas, who plotted to murder the 
queen, being a secretary in King Edward's time ; 
who, when he was executed said he died for his 
country. After this were Udall, Throckmorton 
and others, with Thomas Stratford, of whom I 
have touched before. 

Queen Elizabeth succeeded in the kingdom on 


vj November, 1558, king Philip being in France 
before Dourleus. She was persuaded by her new 
councillors to resume the spiritual power and 
jurisdiction. And it is probable that she was 
persuaded, seeing what she had vowed in the 
sickness of Queen Mary to the Commissioners 
that examined her, and what she told the Duke 
of Feria, and what she protested to ambassadors 
and divers others at several times often, as is 
noted by Catholic writers, who related divers 
particulars, as that she showed devotion to the 
Holy Cross, to our Blessed Lady and to the 
Saints. When she died she had next her body 
a crucifix of gold, hanging before her breast, so 
that Doctor Barlow said she died a Papist. Yet 
it seems that these men who would erect a new 
religion followed their own persuasions, and by 
little and little turned all upside down ; and by 
them she was drawn to make such grievous laws 
against Catholics as never prince before her did 
make against any malefactor whatsoever. And 
this is witnessed by the multiplicity of statutes 
yet extant, the death of so many priests and the 
affliction of innumerable subjects for that cause. 
The queen before her Coronation put all 
bishops to silence and commanded they should 


not preach; and after the Parliament all that 
refused the oath were deprived of honours, 
livings and employments, either in Church or 
Commonwealth, and were committed to prison. 
There were in all of England fourteen bishops, 
most learned prelates, ten of Ireland, deposed ; 
twelve deans, fifteen masters of colleges, six 
abbots, twelve archdeacons, one hundred and 
sixty priests, and Mr. Shellie, Prior of St. John's 
of Jerusalem. 

The Communion Book, which was their new 
Church Service Book, was composed by Parker, 
Grindall, Home, Whitehead, Bill, and Sir 
Thomas Smith. Was it ever known in a 
Christian kingdom that a course for religion was 
devised' and framed without the consent and 
assistance of a bishop ? But this was now done 
by these new upstarts and laymen, who after- 
wards made themselves bishops. In the dis- 
putations that followed the president appointed 
was Sir Nicholas Bacon, a mere layman, then 
made Lord Keeper. He being a great lawyer, 
but no divine, was one of the chiefest of them 
that persuaded the queen to take the course she 
did and to alter religion. 

The end of the good bishops was this. Dr. 


Scott, Bishop of Chester, died at Louvain in 
exile ; Goldwell of St. Asaph at Rome ; Pate of 
Worcester subscribed at the Council of Trent 
for the clergy of England, and never returned ; 
Dr. Oglethorp of Carlisle, who consecrated the 
queen, died suddenly and shortly after his de- 
privation; learned and famous Tunstall died a 
prisoner at Lambeth ; Bourne of Wells was 
prisoner to Carew, dean of the chapel ; Thirlby 
of Ely was committed to the Tower and after- 
wards to Lambeth, where he died; Abbot 
Fecknam, Bishop Watson, Bishop White and 
Bishop Bonner died prisoners ; and Prior Shelly 
in exile. This was the downfall of the Catholic 
clergy, a thing incredible to posterity. 

The queen when she came to the crown was 
full twenty-five years of age, a gracious lady and 
gallant of aspect. Yet she would not be per- 
suaded to marry, but would have it written on 
her tomb that she lived and died a virgin. King 
Henry the Fourth of France merrily said that 
the world would never believe this, nor would 
the many favourites she had, as Pickering, 
before she was queen, so as the world thought 
he should have married her. Nor would Leices- 
ter, nor Packington, nor Hatton, nor Rawley, 


nor Essex. To write all that might be said of 
her would fill many volumes. Mr. Camden in 
his Annals of her life has done it very partially, 
in many passages not telling all he ought to have 
done, and aggravating some passages, especially 
of Catholics. His conscience might tell him 
that all was not performed that he promised in 
his Epistle; and particularly in the relation of 
the proceedings, condemnation and death of the 
Queen of Scots, his majesty's mother, and the 
nearest kinswonian in blood the queen had, 
whose death was an eternal brand to our 
Queen Elizabeth. Yet her happiness is highly 
extolled by flattering heretics and such as know 
not, or will not kjiow what passed before her 
reign, in her reign, and in her death. There 
was the ruin of many in her brother's and sister's 
time for her cause, the great distractions of her 
subjects' minds through the multitude of sects 
and differences in religion; the abundance of 
bloodshed of Catholic priests, honest men and 
of known integrity ; the continual oppression of 
her subjects with subsidies aiid taxes; her assis- 
tance to other rebels against their natural princes, 
as the Hollanders and^ the Huguenots. There 
was that unjust law of the Supremacy to be 



ministered to the people, the refusal of which by 
them was treason, but not to be ministered to 
the nobility. Also her injuries done to the King 
of Spain in taking his treasure, in permitting 
some of her nobility to be commanders in matters 
of piracy and robbery; permitting Drake and 
others to rob his ships, spoil his towns, and 
capture his people, she herself first giving cause 
of hostility ; thus much annoying him who was 
three times the cause of saving her life and 
redeeming her liberty. 

But now to come to her death. It grew of a 
strange , melancholy, very likely reflecting upon 
the rehearsed particulars. Now that she had 
grown old her beauty was much decayed. She 
suspected that some of the greatest about her 
looked towards Scotland. These considerations 
took from her all magnanimity. Her negligence 
in serving Almighty God suffered her to fall into 
a distracted sadness and deep melancholy before 
she died. For before she fell very sick, being at 
"Whitehall her senses, appetite and rest decayed, 
and she was troubled with fearful visions ; 
whereupon she removed to Richmond and fell 
sick indeed. She told a lady, one of the nearest 
about her person, that she had seen a bright 


flame about her, and asked her if she had iK>t 
seen visions in the night. Growing more sick, 
she, all dressed, sat two days and three nights 
in her chair, and would be persuaded by none to 
go to her bed, or eat, or drink. Only the Lord 
Admiral persuaded her once to drink some broth, 
for to no other would she answer a word ; but 
she said softly to him if he had known what she 
had seen in her bed he would not persuade her 
as he did. Commanding the rest of the lords to 
depart her chamber she willed the Lord Admiral 
to stay, to whom she shook her head and with a 
pitiful voice said to him " My Lord, I am tied 
with a chain of iron about my neck." He alleg- 
ing her wonted courage she replied ; " I am tied, 
and the case is altered with me.'* 

There was discovered in the bottom of the 
queen's chair a card (the Queen of Hearts) with 
an iron nail knocked through the head of it, 
which the ladies durst not then pull out, thinking 
it to be some witchcraft. So the queen, growing 
past recovery, kept her bed some days. The 
Archbishop of Canterbury and some other prelates 
were sent to her, but she was much offended on 
seeing them ; she chol^ricly rated them, and bid 
them be packing. Afterwards she exclaimed to 


the Lord Admiral that she had the greatest 
indignity oifered to her by the archbishop that 
a prince could have, to pronounce sentence of 
death against her as if she had lived an atheist. 
And some lords offering to send some other 
prelates to her, she answered that she would 
have none of those hedge-priests. So none came 
to her until she was past sense and at the last 
gasp, when they said some prayers not far from 
her. Thus ended that great queen after forty- 
four years, four months and a few days' reign in 
great worldly glory and pleasure. It is not 
known that in all this sickness she said " God 
help me!'* or any prayer or aspiration calling 
on God or asking His mercy. 

But now it is time, after this long digression, 
to return to our lady duchess. 



When King Philip, the Prince of Spain, came 
into England to marry the queen, many great 
personages and noble gentlemen did attend him, 
among whom was El Conde Don Gomez de 
Figueroa y Cordova, afterwards Duke of Feria, a 
great Lord and Grandee of Spain, much favoured 
by him and of his Council of State. This man be- 
gan to look with particular affection upon the 
duchess, curious (as the Spaniard is) to know her 
birth, descent and quality. He finding both in 
antiquity and other titles of honour not to be 
inferior to his (although great men of Spain sel- 
dom marry out of their own rank and nation), 
intended to solicit a match, moved thereto by the 
favour she had with the queen, and the grace and 
beauty of her person. And this affection, as much 


grounded upon her virtuous parts as on the rare- 
ness of her beauty (the duke was then thirty- 
eight years of age), considering all the parts of 
this fair lady, esteemed him happy who should 
enjoy her. Which is an apparent argument of 
the worth, gentle and modest behaviour of the 
duchess, that not only the greatest of her own 
country, but of foreign nations did pretend her. 
And seeing it was the happiness of a stranger to 
obtain this pretence, he had the more obligation to 
esteem her, leaving country and friends and as 
good matches for his sake, which, as I noted be- 
fore, the duke himself attested in his last will 
and testament. For which last will, having be- 
seeched the king to be pleased that the duchess, 
the Lady Jane Dormer, his dear, most beloved and 
lawful wife, might choose two towns of his estate, 
with their jurisdictions, civil and criminal, and 
their whole rents and profits, wherewith she might 
entertain herself for the time that she should live. 
"And this, I am obliged '* (saith he) "to ask of 
your majesty, because the duchess hath left the 
principal matches of her country and trusted in 
me a stranger, her servant and vassal." These 
are the words of the duke in his last testament.^ 
In this election of a husband, as in the course 


and proceedings of her life, she imitated the vir- 
tue and prudence of the queen her mistress. For 
when the queen, by the humble supplication of 
the whole kingdom, and by the judgment and 
advice of her wise and Catholic Council, intend- 
ing to that which was most convenient for the 
puWic good, determined to marry ; judging there- 
by, all matters as well for Religion as govern- 
ment might be better established by hopeful 
succession. And albeit, divers were propounded 
both within and without the kingdom, yet at last 
the resolution was to have the marriage with 
the Prince Philip of Spain, son to the Emperor 
Charles V. as most honourable and beneficial to 
the kingdom. So also the duchess preferred 
before great lords at home, this noble stranger of 
Spain, the duke of Feria. The king and queen 
gave their willing consent for this marriage ; but 
she would in no case have it solemnized until the 
king's return from Flanders, whither the king 
went about the wars which were made upon the 
frontiers of France, and with him went the duke. 
In the meantime the Queen fell sick, whereof 
she died, to whom the king sent the duke to visit 
Ker, but the king returned not. After the death 
of the queen, and her funeral accomplished, the 


duchess retired to her grandmother, who then 
lay at her house in the Savoy ,^ where the duke, 
prosecuting the desire of the marriage to be affec- 
ted, it was solemnized in the church of the Savoy 
the 29th of December, being the feast of the renow- 
ned martyr St. Thomas of Canterbury. Although 
very unwilling, her uncles, the Earl of Sussex 
and Sir Henry Sidney, did agree to this marriage ; 
being distasteful to them to see such their niece 
of that esteem and regard to leave country, kin, 
and friends to go to live with a stranger in a 
country so far from them, and in a climate so 
different from theirs. But Almighty God had so 
ordained it, and the duke held it his happiness to 
be her husband, whom for her virtue and worth he 
prized, as he said, beyond all the states and pro- 
fessions of the world. 

1 The palace of the Savoy, the residence of the dukes of 
Lancaster, was wrecked by the mob in their hatred of John of 
Gaunt in 1381. It lay in ruins until Henry VII. by his last 
will gave it as an hospital for a master and four chaplains. 
Suppressed by Edward VI., it was revived by Queen Mary. 
Having a considerable portion of the building to spare, the 
Master seems to have been in the habit of letting it out as lodg- 
ings. The account of Dr. George Montague, in 1608, contains 
an entry which shews that Sir Robert Dormer then occupied the 
lodging formerly occupied by his grandmother. The early 
registers having been destroyed by a fire, no record of the 
marriage of the duke is to be found. See Newcourt, i — 696. 


The duke was yet resident as ambassador 
and vicegerent of his king ; and held his auth- 
ority with great valour and wisdom ; and show- 
ed great zeal and devotion to Catholic Reli- 
gion. For when the new queen began to alter 
and pervert the sacred office of the Church, 
to annihilate the ancient laws that touched 
Religion, which her deceased sister had renew- 
ed, the day that she should be crowned, the duke 
being earnestly requested from the queen and im- 
portuned by the Council to be present at her cor- 
onation (as he had been present when she rode 
through London and was installed queen,) he 
demanded, if in the coronation there would be 
performed all the usual ceremonies that were ob- 
served in the coronation of other Christian kings, 
according to the Catholic Church and ancient use 
of Catholic princes in this kingdom. And perceiv- 
ing by their answer, there would be some altera- 
tion, he by no means would be entreated to assist 
there, neither publicly in the Church, nor in secret 
apart, or in a place that should be provided for 
him ; for that he would not authorize by his pre- 
sence any act that gave not due observation to the 
honour and custom of the Catholic Church. 

About that time came into England, for 


Leger-Ambassador the Bishop of Aquila.^ The 
king, still remaining in Flanders, sent for the 
Duke of Feria^ who, before his departure out of 
England, at the motion and instance o'f the 
duchess his wife, by way of petition asked of the 
queen to do him the favour to give him the 
Religious, both men and women, of her kingdom 
that would go with him ; for that he would 
procure to dispose them to such parts where they 
might freely serve God and keep the rules of 
their profession. He had before this tried all 
possible ways to persuade the queen and her new 
councillors not to change nor alter the Catholic 
Religion which she found publicly professed 
when she succeeded in the crown, but would 
permit the laws established for it to stand in 
force; promising by the power and assistance 
of the king to clear all difficulties and resist all 
oppositions. But all in vain, for what smooth 
answers they gave they put in practice the 
contrary. What he requested touching the 
Religious to go out of England, he obtained, 
although with grief and trouble of some of the 

3 Alvaro de Quadra, Bishop of Aquila, of whom many 
notices occur in the Foreign Correspondence of the early years 
of Queen Elizabeth. 


principal councillors, who murmured and put in 
many stumbling-blocks to hinder it, alleging to 
the queen many inconveniences that might grow 
to herself and her proceedings by this permission. 
Notwithstanding the duke desisted not (such was 
his courage and zeal) pressing the queen with 
her word and promise, but got as many of them 
together as he could and would come to Durham 
house where he lodged, and there he sustained 
them until he procured their passage for Flanders. 
In which company were three convents ; one of 
the Carthusian monks of Sheene,^ who by the 
Providence of God remain yet an entire convent, 
at Mechlin in Brabant ; another of nuns of the 
holy order of St. Bridget who were of Sion,* 
which monastery also yet remains whole, of 
many noble gentlewomen and blessed sisters at 

' They had been reinstated in 1556. Twelve professed 
monks and three lay brothers, with their prior, Maurice 
Chauncey, left England and arrived in Flanders ist July, 1559. 
They resided successively at Bruges, Louvain, Mechlin and 
Nieuport until their final dissolution by the Emperor Joseph 
n. in 1783. 

* The MS. history of this convent, formerly belonging to the 
Earl of Shrewsbury states that •• By means of the Duke of 
Feria the nuns obtained licence of the queen to depart in the 
first year of her reign, the said duke preparing a ship by order 
of King Philip for their secure passing the seas." 


Lisbon in Portugal ; a third was of St. Dominic's 
Order of the nuns of Dartford ; ^ but being few, 
they were soon dispersed in monasteries of their 
own order* And when the duke went out of 
England, which was about the end of May, 1559, 
he had with him many priests, as afterwards in 
the train of the duchess followed many others. 
And being arrived where the king was he pre- 
sented to his majesty their case, beseeching his 
favour and protection ; which the king promised 
with great charity and piety, as became so great 
and Catholic a prince. 

The duke left the duchess at his house in 
London, where she remained almost to the end 
of July; at which time Don Juan de Ayala,® sent 
by the king and duke for her, came to London. 
The duchess was presently to put herself in order 
for the voyage ; and on the 24th of July she went 
to take the leave of Queen Elizabeth ; and 
expecting in the presence-chamber, until the 

* See on the history of this foundation Tanner's Not. Monast. 
p. 225. 

• The credence given to John de Ayala on being sent to 
^ueen Elizabeth in order to conduct the Countess of Feria 
into Flanders, is dated at Ghent, 9th July, 1559.. See Calend. 
of Foreign Papers, No. 959. The queen's reply to Philip's 
letter is dated on the 25th of the same month. Id. No. 1060. 


queen called for her, and staying long, the 
Spanish Ambassador began to be angry, desiring 
her either to sit down or to return, for she was 
now seven months gone with child. The bishop 
spake loud, seeing who she was and with child, 
that it was not fit she should stand there waiting, 
and would have pressed her to sit down in the 
chair of State. Which when the queen under- 
stood she presently came forth.*^ That compli- 
ment done, within two days following she took 
her journey towards Dover, where she was to be 
embarked. She went accompanied with a troop 
of noble gentlemen and ladies, her kin and friends, 
among whom was the Lord Bishop, Leger- 
Ambassador, who had special commandment 
from the king to have care of her. Also went 
with her the good lady, her dear and beloved 
grandmother, taking that opportunity to go where 
she might freely and securely serve God and 

' A version of this story, intended for the guidance of Sir 
Thomas Challoner, the English ambassador at Madrid, was 
sent to him by Cecil in a letter dated 27th July. Of course it 
exonerates Elizabeth and places the conduct of the Bishop of 
Aquila in the most unfavourable light. Cecil speaks with 
respect of the Countess of Feria. See Foreign Papers of 
Elizabeth, 27th July, 1559, No. 1082. The farewell interview 
took place on the 23rd July. 


enjoy the help and means for it. The duchess 
had attending on her six gentlewomen, the 
daughters of noble and principal gentlemen. 
One was sister to the Lord Harrington, her 
cousin-germ an ; another sister to Sir Edward 
\j Stradling; another sister to Sir William Picker- 
ing, the queen's favourite; another was Mrs. 
Paston, who afterwards returning to England, 
was married to Sir Henry Newton of Gloucester- 
shire, and became of the bed-chamber to Queen 
Elizabeth, and others; and with these Mrs. 
Clarentia, who from the childhood of Queen Mary 
had served her, and ever in principal place about 
her ; a woman respected and beloved by the queen, 
who the rest of her life remained with thjj^ 
duchess. Besides the priests that were permitted 
to go over, divers gentlemen sheltered themselves 
under her protection, to go where they might 
according to their desire serve God. 

Arrived at Dover, after taking leave of friends, 
where was the Earl of Sussex and Sir Henry 
Sidney, the next day after dinner she embarked 
for Calais, where within few hours she landed, 
received by Monsr. Gourden, governor of Calais, 
whither came also the governor of Boulogne to 
visit her. And after a day's rest and two nights, 


having been very honourably entreated and 
feasted by those governors in the town of Calais, 
she took her journey for Graveling, thence for 
Dunkirk, places subject to the King of Spain; in 
both which she was received with extraordinary 
great feasts and triumphs, discharging all the 
artillery of the place. The governors meeting 
her with their captains and soldiers marching in 
military order, giving all signs of welcome enter- 
tainment, presenting her with gifts accustomed 
in such places to noble personages. 

From Dunkirk she passed • Newport and came 
to Bruges,® where she rested some days; whither 
came the duke her husband to receive her and 
^Don Luys Mendes, sent by the king to visit her 
and bid her welcome into those parts. Also 
. thither came Don Antonio de Toledo, brother to 
the Duke of Alva, Commander of the Order of 
St. John and Grand-Prior of Castille. In this 
city (as in the rest), the magistrates and governors 
of the places adjoining did her great honour by 
their rich presents, and gave testimony of their 

^ Writing to Cecil on July 29th, Challoner reports that the 
Countess of Feria had been princely met upon the way, and 
would rest her in a Spaniard's house at Bruges. Foreign 
Papers of Elizabeth, No. 1093. 


respect to the duke and to her. The duke was 
to go to Flushing, whither he passed with haste 
to see the king embark himself for Spain.® 

The duchess went from thence, her grand- 
mother still with her, passing Ghent, where she 
was magnificently entertained, for Antwerp, 
where she was likewise received with great 
solemnity and honour ; the whole city gathering 
to the gates arid besetting the streets to behold 
her entrance, (which was princely) on horseback; 
and six maids of honour, also on horseback, 
attending her person. So guided through the 
principal streets, and lodged in the English 
house, where the English merchants had then 
their staple. From thence, she removed to 
Li^ge, for that the Duchess of Parma, the king's 
sister, then lady governess, lay at Mechlin, 
intending to stay there until she was delivered 
of child ; but her highness the governess would 
in no manner permit it, but called her to Mechlin 
to have her by herself. So to give satisfaction 
she removed to Mechlin, where she was also 
received with extraordinary regard; the governess 
taking order that she should be lodged and every 
way accommodated, as it could not be more both 

« See the Foreign Papers quoted above, No. 1174, 1175. 


■ her honour and content. Her lodging was in 

^Cardinal Granville's house, the Archbishop 

> Mechlin,^® and being within the month of the 

t that she reckoned to be delivered of child ; 

happily was accomplished on the 28th of 

ember, the vigil of St. Michael the Archangel 

lof all holy Angels, bringing him then into the 

He was called at his christening Loren9o, 

l-Laurence, in Spanish Don Lorenzo de Figueroa 

ordova. Marquis of Villalva. In shew and 

emblance he was an angelical child, who by 

good natural disposition and more by the 

I education of his mother became so illustrious 

memorable a prince in the world, whose 

orth and great parts are not only famous and 

-Jtenowned in Spain but in all Europe, thus 

■*#iving notice to the world of his great wisdom, 

. learning and valour." 

For the birth of this son, there were great 
feastings, masks, and jousts by the Spaniards and 
Italians ; and after eight days the baptism was 
to be solemnized, at which the godfathers were 

*® Antoine Perrenot, Bishop of Arras, became Archbishop of 
Mechlin in 1561, and was created cardinal in the same year. 

u Od '9rt*ii Sftntfttnber Challoner reported to Cecil the birth 
r' eign Papers, No. 1393. 



the Cardinal Granville and the Bishop of Tour- 
nay; the godmothers were the Duchess of 
Parma,^^ governess, and the Countess of Hoch- 
straete/® (for the use then was there to have two 
godfathers and two godmothers) which was per- 
formed in most honourable and princely manner. 
When the child was borne to the church, first 
were divers noble personages carrying such things 
as are used in baptism, the candles, the basin 
and ewer, the salt, the chrism, etc. Then 
followed the eldest daughter of the countess- 
godmother, who did bear the child, and the 
younger daughter, both gorgeously apparalled, 
who carried the train of the child's mantle. 
Then next followed Madam Governess, and next 
to her the other godmother, attended with all the 
ladies and nobility of the Court. The child was 
christened by the name of Laurence, the name 
of his grandfather. Count of Feria and Marquis 
of Pliego ; it being the custom that the heirs of 
this house retain, alternis vicibus, the names of 
Gomez and Laurence for many ages. 

w Margaret, wife of Alexander de Medicis, Duke of Florence, 
and subsequently of Octavian Farnese, Duke of Parma. 

w Apparently Anne de Rennenberg, wife of Philip de Lalaing, 
who died 14th August, 1555. See Theatre Profane de Brabant, 
II. 39. 




When the solemnity of the christening was end- 
ed the duchess, for to recover strength, remained 
at Mechlin to the beginning of March following. 
Her grandmother then parted from her to settle 
herself in Louvain, as hath been said. The duke 
took of an Italian merchant in Antwerp fifty 
thousand ducats, which he borrowed for the jour- 
ney into Spain for himself, the duchess and the 
child, then six months old. The djuchess went 
first to Brussels, where she was entertained with 
extraordinary signs of congratulation, as in other 
places where she entered. There she stayed un- 
til the first of April, A.D. 1560, on which day 
(being the Monday before Palm Sunday) she, her 
husband and the infant Marquis her son, began 
their journey towards Spain, accompanied with 
many noble gentlemen and their attendants, 


among whom was Sir William Shelley, of the 
Order of St. John, Grand Prior of England^ 
They had for their better commodity double pro- 
vision ; to wit, that the furniture which served 
this day was carried before to serve the second 
day following, so as their servants had all things 
beforehand, where they should lodge, in readiness- 
When they came to the frontiers of France 
many noble personages came to receive them, 
and Mons. D'Oussons was sent by the king and 
queen to welcome them into the country and to 
conduct them to the court. And in every town 
where they lodged the keys were brought to the 
duke, to be master of them that night. Coming 
to St. Denis in the Holy Week they rested there un- 
til Easter Eve. That day, in the afternoon, they 
entered into Paris and were lodged in the Duke of 
Guise's house, who was the queen's uncle, where 
they remained the Easter holidays and were 
visited by many. After that they went on their 
journey towards Amboise, where the king and the 
queen regent and the queen's mother lay; the 
king then being Francis the Second, son of Henry 
the Second, and this queen was Queen Mary of 
Scotland, mother of King James, now king of 
Great Britain. 


They being arrived at the court, the princes 
-sent to welcome them, and the queen commanded 
to bring the duchess to her palace, having ordered 
to provide a lodging for her. No sooner was the 
•duchess entered into the palace but the Queen 
Regent came presently to visit her, who behold- 
ing her beauty, the sweetness of her countenance 
and the good grace of her person — they are the 
<[ueen's own words, which I have heard from her 
secretary and a gentlewoman, his sister, one of the 
two that were admitted to be present at her death, 
— ^who heard the queen divers times report it, was 
marvellously taken with her presence, and show- 
"ti affection for her ; as when wearing mourning 
for the death of the king, her father-in-law, she 
that day put it off, to honour the duchess, and 
•clothed herself in white. She also entreated the 
duchess that she also would be apparelled after 
the French manner, which, to please the queen, 
she yielded to : and the queen would have her 
-clothed in her presence, which her Majesty did 
put her hand to, taking in it very particular con- 
tent, for she would mend what the women had 
4one ; and from that time the queen began to bear 
her so entire and intimate love as she continued 
to keep it to her death, with many remonstrances. 


That day she was invited to eat at the queen's 
table, who commanded the guard of the Scots 
gentlemen to wait on her, and did her so many 
royal courtesies as she would have done to any 
strange princess that had been nearest of her 
blood. She brought her to the queen's mother, 
who very kindly treated her, and promised after- 
wards to visit her herself. At her departure she 
sent divers to accompany her to the borders of 
Spain, and required with great charge, as occasions 
fell out, that she might hear from her and she 
would not fail to answer her ; yea, and to provoke 
her to write to her. This correspondence con- 
tinued while they lived, the queen subsigning all 
her letters, " Your perfect friend, old acquaintance 
and dear cousin, Maria Regina." Divers of which 
letters I have seen, and have four or five of them 
by me, written all with the queen's own hand, very 
affectionate and respectful. This respect was evi- 
dently to be seen when the duke her husband died, 
the queen being then detained prisoner in Eng- 
land, in the year 1571. She desired that the duch- 
ess might come into Flanders ; and wrote unto his 
Catholic Majesty beseeching him that it might be 
so with his license, for that the duchess living in 
Flanders would be much for the service of God's. 


Church and of her Majesty, and that she should 
so enjoy better health, being a climate more 
agreeable to her natural constitution than that 
of Spain; and that the queen for her part 
should receive great consolation to have her so 
near herself, and in regard of her present afflic- 
tions she should reap thereby both comfort and 
benefit. And to this end did her Majesty also 
write to his Holiness, commanding his ambassador 
to solicit it very seriously as a matter very con- 
venient to his service and her solace ; and like- 
wise to deal with the Ministers of his Catholic 
Majesty, that the journey of the duchess to 
Flanders might take effect. This the Queen of 
Scotland desired exceedingly to accomplish, as 
her secretary,^ who wrote these letters, hath related 
to me, a man very prudent and Christian, who 
lived and died a very virtuous and pious Catholic; 
for I am witness to both, having familiarly been 
acquainted with him for almost six years, and by 
him daily in his last sickness and present at his 
death ; a little before which, calling Father Cres- 
well and the gentlemen and men of any fashion, 

^ A marginal note in the MS. tells us that this was " Monsr. 
Gilbert Curie, secretary more than twenty years to the Queen 
of Scots." 


both English and Scots, he there protested upon 
hope of his salvation, of his fidelity and true loyal- 
ty ever to the queen, his mistress, both living 
and dead, against the calumnies and imputations 
put in print, the authors being too lightly credulous. 
And this he spake (myself being a witness) with 
great asservation, protesting his innocence ever 
at the last gasp as he should answer it before the 
tribunal of the Eternal Judge. This I hold my- 
self bound in conscience to write ; for that he de- 
sired all the assistants to witness what he affirmed 
upon his death-bed. The queen spake often of 
the duchess, uttering words of great affection, much 
commending her virtue and worth. But this 
desired journey could not take effect by reason of 
the minority of her son. 

But to proceed with the duchess' journey. 
They arrived in Spain with good health, and 
about the end of June came to Segovia, the king 
and queen being then at a house of recreation in 
the woods adjoining ; but the court then resided 
in Toledo, to which place was referred the 
journey of the duchess for their majesties. Into 
which city she entered the gth of August, the 
\igil of St. Laurence, 1560, with that honourable 
lustre and unusual greatness that the houses of 


the vfhole city were dispeopled to behold her 
entrance. The king and the duke her husband 
stood together in a window to see her pass, she 
riding on horseback ; the furniture of her horse 
being of crimson velvet garnished with studs and 
fringe of gold, and another horse led by, very 
richly appointed. Her six daraes likewise were 
all alone on horseback, with velvet furniture, 
suitable alike. The duchess had attending on 
her twenty pages, all in costly liveries, and was 
accompanied with most of the gallantry of the 
court. But her own person graced all. The 
king, before she visited the queen, came himself 
to see her, to bid her welcome to the court of Spain. 
The next day she went to kiss the queen's 
hands, who was the eldest daughter of France ; ^ 
and so could give her account of the queen her 
mother, the king her brother, his queen and the 
other princes, her brothers and sisters ; in whose 
court she had been so honourably entertained. 
The queen received her with much shew of kind- 
ness and favour, as much admiring her beauty as 
envying her nation ; and she gave her a jewel for 
her welcome. The king of Portugal^ sent of 

» Isabella, daughter of Henry II., King of France. 
» Sebastian, King of Portugal, from 1557 to 1578. 


purpose to visit her, and to give her the Bien- 
venida into those countries, and withal a fair 
jewel for a present, which I have seen; and it 
was valued by the jeweller at 8,000 ducats. For 
some days these visits of welcome continued. 
The respect of the duke her husband, the report 
of her virtue and the comeliness of her presence 
drew a regard and honour to her of the whole 
court, by all performances, in such noble and 
extraordinary manner as the memory thereof re- 
mains much extolled, especially among the kind- 
red, allies and vassals of that house of Feria and 

After that the duchess had rested in the Court 
she repaired to Zafra, the duke's house on his 
own estate in Estramadura, where she was re- 
ceived by the neighbouring gentlemen and ten- 
ants with such tokens of honour as could not 
be greater nor more costly. Here now she begins 
to put in practice the state of a married wife. 
And although by the means of heats of that 
country, so different from this where she was 
born and brought up, she had so little health as 
she was in a sort unfit to intend to anything besides 
her prayers and her health ; yet now being in her 
own house she resembles her grandmother, of 


whom she would be a perfect follower, seeking to 
treasure up in herself the degrees and excellencies 
of a good and perfect wife ; so that her husband 
found in her a general treasure for all cares and 
chances. In all times and all occasions she 
sought to please him and increase his content- 
ment. For in mirth, the duchess was to him 
sweet and pleasing company; in matters of 
discontentment he found in her a lively comfort ; 
in doubts a faithful and able counsellor; in 
adverse accidents a solace. All that knew them, 
knew how much the duke esteemed her, how 
dearly he loved her; for all those qualities he 
acknowledged to be in the duchess, as such as 
served them (and not in mean place) have attested 
to me with particular relation. 

But for more complete testimony hereof is his 
last will and testament, wherein he distinctly 
remembereth those great parts in her, leaving 
her the only tutoress of their son and the gover- 
ness of his estate, until the time by the law made 
he was capable thereof, which is at twenty-five 
years of age ; he being not full twelve years when 
his father died. For among other words in his 
testament of her praise, he hath these ; " I be- 
seech of the duchess no particulars, — for that I 


Icnow what belongeth to the bringing up of her 
«on and the government of his lands, goods and 
liouse, she will do much better than I do know to 
ask it, etc." Withal charging his son, upon his 
blessing and under pain of his curse, to love and 
obey her ; and telling him the great obligation she 
had to her more than to a mother. As she was 
to her husband, a respecting, loving and pro- 
vident wife; so to her son she was a careful 
mother, notable instructor, and a most prudent 
tutoress. Her care gave him those principles 
and foundations of wisdom, virtue and excellence, 
therewith he so shined and flourished in the 
world as is singularly expressed in the funeral 
oration at the solemnity of his funeral at Zafra. 
Her prudent education instilled in him the 
^beginning and entrance to know how to govern 
himself and others ; for when upon the death of 
his father, the king gave him the Encomienda* 
of Segura de la Sierra, one of the richest in 
Spain, which his father had before him, when he 
had taken the habit of Santiago, she caused him 
to go to the monastery of Santiago ^t Urles, 
according to the custom of the Order, and would 
not take dispensation for him, as others of his 

* A grant or benefice attached to a military order. 


quality do, but that he being young should 
perform his noviceship; which he did some 
months in serving Mass and performing other 
duties that he might the better know his obliga- 
tions to God's service; at times, taking the 
recreations of so great a person. This education 
brought him to the fame and deserved renown he 
had in the world. 

She was in her family a lady that gave remedy 
to their wants; cause of exercise and employ- 
ment both to menservants and women according 
to their quality, detesting idleness, being herself 
a rare example of industry, piety, and imitable 

About five years after her marriage she had 
another son, whom in baptism they called Don 
Pedro, after his great-grandfather by the grand- 
mother's side. But this child had not accom- 
plished three months when it pleased God to 
take him again. 

It would ask a large discourse to relate the 
many memorable acts of the Christian zeal of 
this duchess while she was a married wife ; but 
I will content myself in proof and testimony 
hereof to repeat what a great author doth affirm 
and hath published in print. 


Fra Juan Baptista Moles, a Recollect Des- 
calced of the Order of St. Francis, in his 
Memorial that he wrote of the same province, 
observes as followeth:** "The said Dukes of 
Feria are, and have always been, patrons of this 
house, who ordinarily repair hither and supply 
with liberal hand the necessary occasions of the 
same, accounting this house for their particular 
recreation, in which they have a lodging (which 
I have seen) where commonly, when they reside 
in Zafra, they retire themselves in Lent, and for 
the Holy Week, and other principal feasts of the 
year. With the most singular devotion this did 
the great duke, Don Gomez, first Duke of Feria, 
and the most Christian duchess his wife, the 
Lady Jane Dormer, a marvellous devotee of our 
habit and religion. They, recollecting themselves 
in this house, did not only give to the religious 
to eat ; but on Holy Thursday and other special 
days, they with their own hands did serve; giving 
them their meat in the refectory, and imparting it 
to them with so great humility and affection as if 
they had done it to the Apostles of Jesus Christ. 
Afterwards they themselves, eating with the 
lay friars and treating them with great devotion 

s Memorial de San Gabriel, cap. zlii. Marg. Note in MS. 


and plainness, left herein great edification to the 
religious, and a marvellous example for such like 
honourable persons. And so to this day liveth, 
and shall live for ever, the memory bf this so 
pious and devout a lord among the religious, to 
commend his soul to God and to pray for the life 
of the duchess his wife, now a widow, who with 
great example and praise of her holy behaviour, 
continueth in the recollection of a very holy life ; 
who having been visited by God with the loss of 
so worthy a husband, aparted from her country 
and nation ; yet remaineth in solitariness, as she 
that is descended of noble and honourable blood 
in the kingdom of England; still having in 
remembrance this religious house de la Lapa; 
and providing for it and for the rest that are in 
her son's estate with such relief, alms and works 
of charity, as one very intimately devoted to this 
holy province and to the religious of the same." 
This the said author, Fra Juan Baptista Moles, 
writeth in his said Memorial; and in another 
chapter following he saith further that the duke 
and duchess did found and build the monastery 
of our Lady de Monte-Virgine, situated half a 
league from the town of Villalva. And that 
after the duke's death his duchess, the Lady 


Jane Dormer, builded the church in a very 
seemly and sumptuous fashion, for the great 
devotion that this princess had to this house. 

In these and such like works of charity and 
sanctity did the duchess pass her married life, 
renowned as well for her wisdom, prudence and 
generous carriage in all accidents as in her 
devotion and zeal to religion, constant in good 
purposes, not dismayed with troubles, valorous 
in adverse chances and discreet in all excesses ; 
shewing herself in all the worthy daughter of 
her parents and the wife of such a husband. 



To make yet further proof of the virtues of the 
•duchess and to try her constancy and patience, 
it pleased Almighty God to allay and utterly 
dissolve the content of her married life, depriving 
.her of that she best loved under heaven, giving 
•the duke a fever so ardent and violent, as within 
twenty days he departed this life, it being the 
feast of the Nativity of our Blessed Lady early 
in the morning at the Escurial, when the king 
was there building his admirable, sumptuous, 
and royal house of St. Laurence, the 8th of 
September, 1571, having been married twelve 
years, eight months, and ten days. 

This infirmity, what sensible grief and heavi- 
ness it impressed in the duchess, who so much 
honoured and so dearly loved him, may well be 
gathered by what he was and what shz was; she 



being a stranger, young, out of her country, far 
from her friends, left in a manner wholly solitary, 
with the care and charge of the estate of the 
duchy in her only son, not yet twelve years of 

Here might be amplified her attendance and 
diligence towards the duke in this sickness, the 
entire love and affection wherewith she served 
him, her great solicitude to regale him, to help 
him, to inquire after expert physicians and seek 
for remedies that might procure health; the 
continual labour she passed night and day, 
present at all hours to assist in what was needful, 
and to give contentment in all occasions. But 
human pains or diligence availed little either of 
wife or king (who sent of purpose to Guadaloupe 
for a physician) nor of kin nor of friends, nor of 
servants; for, all seeing and feeling their loss 
failed not to procure and do what they could for 
his health and recovery. The time was come 
that it pleased God that this good duke should 
leave this vale of misery, to live with the blessed 
Saints, there to receive the eternal reward of his 
merits, whereof living and dying he gave hopeful 
assurance by many evident and most Christian 


I might here declare the valour, wisdom and 
understanding and other excellent parts of this 
great duke, which were so notoriously apparent 
to the world where he lived ; but I rather desire 
to pass them with silence, than by my inability 
not to give them their deserved right and honour ;^ 
for with his death failed one of the noblest and 
best gentlemen that the kingdom of Spain had 
or knew in his time, or since then to this day, 
which is manifest by the many great and im- 
portant affairs wherein from his youth he was 
employed both in peace and war. The regard 
that the Emperor Charles the Fifth had of him, 
commeivding him as a notable and able assistant 
to Philip his son, and the esteem and favour that 
he held with this king to his death, being of his 
Council of State, Captain of his Spanish Guard; 
called always by his majesty to his private 
consults and intimate conferences, which as a 
most noble true gentleman and worthy counsellor 
he applied not to his own interest, little respect- 
ing increase of his own lands and wealth, but 
the honour of his king, the service of his country, 
the benefit of the common-weail and the advance- 
nient of such as merited. Noble personages and 
honourable widows who were fallen into wants, 


made suit to this good duke as their patron and 
best advocate, and found help for their neces- 
sities. Yea, it was very ordinary with him, 
when strangers, were they English, Flemings, 
or Italians, (especially if they were of quality,) 
having suits and pretentions in the court, their 
business requiring some time for examination, 
(who often had much delay before they could be 
despatched) ; this duke in the meantime gave 
them allowance to sustain them ; in so much 
as when his steward made complaint that money 
came not in to supply so much, and that he 
wanted to provide what was necessary for his 
own house ; the duke would answer : " I have 
plate, pawn it; and let not these men lack;" 
compassionating their cases when their des- 
patches were delayed. He preferred the affairs 
of the public weal before his own, were they 
never so important. 

The duchess herself told me, that the duke 
and she talking in private and discoursing of the 
sudden rising and great wealth of some that had 
the king's ear and were in his favour ; she object- 
ing the little increase that the duke had made, 
yet no man more in favour, no man more 
constant, no man more intimate with the king 


than he, seeing most businesses of estate were 
passed and despatched by his means ; — he 
answered : " Would you that I take gifts and 
bribes, or that my honour remain in the point 
it doth, and should? For if I would accept 
presents and gifts, you must cause the back door 
to be opened to pass them out ; for your house 
would quickly be so full as it would not contain 
them. But to this day my honour hath not been 
touched with bribes, and shall I now begin ? *' 
She replied : " If it concern your honour, in God's 
name let it be ; for to uphold your honour, I 
had rather be poor than give way to the least 
decay thereof." 

He was affable and sweet in condition, not 
haughty, no despiser, not proud, used all with 
marvellous courtesy and a continuing liberality 
Where there was need. The respect he had to 
ecclesiastical and religious persons was notable ; 
his zeal and fervour in observance of the Catholic 
Religion were admirable. He rather suffered 
the displeasure of his mother, whom he ever 
observed with all duty and obedient respect, and 
the hazard to lose that great estate of the 
marquis-ship of Pliego, whereof his mother was 
heir, than he would consent to marry the only 


daughter of his elder brother Don Pedro, who 
died young, leaving no other issue, being so near 
of his blood ; whom his mother (otherwise a most 
virtuous lady) in revenge married to his younger 
brother and put the estate in process between 
the two brothers. 

While his sickness lasted, which daily grew 
more dangerous by the violence of the fever, he 
disposed all matters as a Christian should do, 
confessed, received the Sacraments of the Holy 
Eucharist and Extreme Unction ; had always 
about him religious men, spent the time as his 
sickness might permit, in spiritual discourses; 
comforting the duchess, setting before her eyes 
the will of Almighty God that all must obey; 
her own Christianity and discretion, and so to 
suffer with patience his departure, leaving as a 
pledge their son who should supply his place. 
And then he called his son and gave him his 
blessing; he charged him to serve God, to live 
virtuously, to honour and obey his mother, 
repeating to him the great duty he did owe her. 
He was very devout to our Blessed Lady; and 
so on the day of her birth, he was born to God.^ 

1 Namely, on the festival of the Nativity of our Blessed 
Lady, 8th September, 1571. 


The king felt his death so heavily as he shed 
tears ; which is said he was never seen to do for 
any but for his son Don Carlos. But this heavy 
loss most touched the duchess in her particular, 
although it was general, both for the king's 
services, the benefit of his country, and for the 
causes and pretensions of the good and well- 
deserving, both subjects and strangers, religious 
and secular. 

He was a great furtherer and advancer of the 
Fathers of the Society of Jesus (a Religion that 
hath merited so well by their great labours, 
learning, and good example, in the Church of 
God) as Father Ribadeneira in his Epistle 
(dedicated to the duchess) of his book De los 
Santos Extravagantes,^ confesseth in these words : 
^* It is long since that I have desired some good 
occasion to declare unto the world the obligations 
that all this little Society of Jesus hath to serve 
your excellency and your most honourable house ; 
^nd I more than any, in regard I am so ancient 
a witness of the many and singular favours we 
have received from the hands of the most 

* p. Ribadeneyra Epist. a Dona Juana Dormer, Duquesa de 
Feria, 15 de Julio 1608. See De Backer, Bibl. des ecrivains de 
la Compagnie de Jesus, iii. 154, ed. 187G. 


excellent Lord Don Gomez de Figueroa y 
Cordova, Duke of Feria,^ your husband, and 
which your excellency and the Duke Doa 
Lorenzo your son have always continued as true 
lords, patrons, and defenders of our Society. 
And for to say something of much that may be 
said, in the year 1555 I went to Rome from 
Flanders, sent by the blessed Father Ignatius,, 
our Father and Founder, for to be a suitor to his^ 
Catholic Majesty to give us license to erect 
colleges of the Society in those states, and there- 
with to serve our Lord with our poor labours ; as 
by His grace, the Society doth in so many other 
parts of the world. Which petition, although it 
were very just, yet it had many and most sore: 
difficulties and contradictions of such persons, 
as had more obligation to favour and assist so- 
holy a work (as it falls out in the like for God's 
service) which the Duke Don Gomez, by his 
authority, valour, and wisdom, made plain and 
obtained of the king all that I pretended. For,, 
as he was so great a lord, and so great a favourite 
of his majesty, and brother to Father Antonio- 
de Cordova, who was of our Society, and son of 
the most worthy Lady Donna Catalina Fer- 

^ See Hist. Societ. Jesu, by Orlandini, p. 402, ed. 1620.- 



nandez de Cordova, Marquesa de Pliego, and 
brother of the Lady Donna Maria de Toledo, 
Duchess of Arcos, who were notable protectors 
of our Society and founders of the colleges of 
Montilla and Marchena, his Excellency undertook 
my protection ; and for the time that I remainect 
in that court he was my defence, advocate, 
solicitor, powerful lord and loving father. He 
efifected that which seemed impossible, and 
opened the door that stood so locked, that the 
Society might have houses and colleges in alt 
those states. And by virtue of that license and. 
privilege, it hath at this day more than twenty, 
and in them more than seven hundred persons in 
the most principal cities and towns of the Low 
Countries ; which much serve our Lord, illuminat- 
ing and repressing heretics, animating Catholics, 
and instructing them to live Christianly, to obey 
God and their princes. And all this fruit, after our 
Lord, Who would be served with it, the Society 
oweth to the duke, as to the root from whence 
it sprung." 

And afterwards in the same Epistle he addeth 
further, that in the year 1557 returning another 
time from Rome to Flanders, " I received," saith 
he, " many benefits and the whole Society in my 


person. And I went with his Excellency into 
England in the year 1558, sent by the king to 
assist in the infirmity of our lady and queen, 
Queen Mary, etc." 

Moreover, in the death of this duke, our country 
and Catholics lost a main and evident hope of 
their desire for the restitution of the Catholic 
religion, knowing his zeal to further all means 
and helps that might effect this restitution by 
that which appeared he did in the beginning of 
the change at his coming out of England ; and 
partly by undertaking the government of the 
Low Countries, which was appointed to him in 
the year 1571. He provided for the journey; 
but then his mortal sickness seizing upon him, it 
pleased God to alter this expected happiness. I 
have been credibly informed that more than once 
he hath with hearty instance insinuated to the 
king that the relief of our country imported 
much the reputation of his majesty; and that 
before God and man he was bound in honour to 
give remedy, seeing the ruin thereof came upon 
his relinquishing it, his good queen and wife 
having settled it in so good estate. And that 
his majesty could not forget what passed, he 
being employed by him as his counsellor and 


servant to preserve her that then stood and ruled; 
and contrary to hope and promise had confounded 
all. And that the duke had this zeal to our 
country appeareth by sundry letters written after 
his death in the Latin tongue to his majesty and 
to the duke, his son, wherein also appeareth the 
respect and esteem that the English Catholics 
had to the lady duchess, desiring that she might 
come into the Low Countries. This letter I 
found written with a most fair and legible hand, 
and subscribed with these names; namely. 
Doctors William Allen, Owen Lewis, Thomas 
Stapleton, Richard Hall, Richard White, William 
Carter, William Smith, William Knott, John 
Dauley, Licenciates, or Bachelors of Divinity; 
Henry Joliff, .William Taylour, Thomas Wilson, 
Thomas Bailie, Laurence Webbe, Peter Foster, 
Cuthbert Vaux, Thomas Metham, Thomas 
Parker, Thomas Dorman, Giles Capell, Gregory 
Bell, Gilbert Branford, Edmund Hargatt, 
Thomas Hide, John Marshall, John Fenne, 
Thomas Freeman, Maurice Chancy, prior of the 
Carthusians, for him and his convent. This 
letter to his Catholic majesty was dated at 
Antwerp on 6th October, 1571. 
A letter from the same writers to the Duke of 


Feria on the death of his father was written on 
the same day. 

Another from the same to the Cardinal Pro- 
tector was carried by Dr. Nicolas Sanders. 

His Holiness Pope Pius Quintus did write 
unto the duchess upon the news of the death of 
the duke, which brief is dated at St. Peter's, 
28th November, 1571, and subsigned, Ant. 



The duchess now in the eighteenth ^ year of her 
marriage and thirty-fourth of her age, beset on 
every side with the divers and heavy thoughts of 
her widowhood, the present solitariness and the 
heavy memory of her past contentment, yet so 
moderated her passions (which commonly in 
such accidents, even in the wisest, grow to 

1 Read, "the thirteenth." In the margin of the original 
occurs this note, 

" For the virtues of a widow read the fortieth chapter of 
Francis of Sales, Bishop of Geneva, his Introduction to a Devout 
Life, which our duchess practised before he wrote it." 


extremes, affection over-ruling discretion, such 
is the force of these passions beyond reason) as 
considering all circumstances which I must 
repeat, j^et so young, a stranger, so far from 
country and friends, her loss so important, must 
needs augment grief; and the more for that there 
was no remedy, for recovery ; nevertheless, neces- 
sity did not persuade so much a moderation as 
religion directed to look upon her husband rather 
absent than dead ; whereupon she resolveth a 
constant purpose to hold true fidelity to him and 
together to conform herself to the will and ordi- 
nance of God Almighty. 

The duke in his death-bed recommended to this 
lady especially three things — his soul, his son, 
and his honour. His soul to be prayed for and 
assisted with the holy Sacrifice of the Church, 
alms-deeds and other good works of charity ; his 
son to be brought up christianly, in the fear of 
God, learning and qualities answerable to his 
rank and condition ; his honour to be taken care 
of, to pay his debts, and make satisfaction where 
it was due. Of all which she had so particular 
care as she neither slacked time, nor omitted 
opportunity with all speedy accomplishment to 
pay this performance as was requisite. 


As concerning the first ; presently upon his 
death, in all the monasteries and parishes about 
the Escurial and in Madrid, large alms was given 
to pray for his soul. And in the duke's estate, 
in many Religious houses, perpetual memories 
^ere founded to this end. And the duchess to 
her death did always continue the remembrance 
of this charge where she lived ; and in her will, 
left particular charge, to the duke her grandson 
always to accomplish the aidful memory of his 
grandfather, father, and hers ; observing with 
special solemnity his anniversary rites; which 
charge she commended to myself for divers years, 
to be done in most of the monasteries of Madrid 
with good alms. 

For the second, which was the education of her 
son, is showed before in the description of his 
life and worthy parts. 

And the third to uphold his honour in paying 
his debts and in giving satisfaction where aught 
might be with conscience required, and in main- 
taining the honourable estate of his house, she 
notably showed the effects of a loving wife and 
the affectionate memory of a most christian, in- 
dustrious and provident lady. For at the death 
of the duke, his estate (for his own debts and the 


debts of the Count Don Pedro his elder brother, 
contracted for the service of their princes), stood 
engaged to the value of 300,000 ducats, which 
this good lady by her provident government in 
her time cleared. For when the duke her grand- 
son entered into it, he found it free and dischar^ 
ed. He being employed to do the obedience to 
Pope Paul the Fifth, being the first employment 
and he young, would perform it with extraordinary 
greatness, and so put himself into a new engage- 
ment for that embassage, which was very little, 
considering how his grandmother found it when 
his grandfather died. This her government was 
not by withdrawing any allowance that touched 
the maintenance of her house or honour of her 
son ; or by new inventions or tricks to oppress her 
vassals or tenants, whom always she entreated 
with such sweetness and plausible proceedings as 
they extraordinarily respected, reverenced and 
affected her. Which to demonstrate, one ex- 
ample among many may make plain. 

It happened in the year 1603 that the king 
made offer to farm out the tollage that was by 
Badajoz, upon the confines of Portugal. The 
duke, her son, was the viceroy of Sicily ; who, 
advertised of this farming, wrote presently to his 


mother to take it for him, whatsoever it cost, be- 
cause joining to his estate, it lay convenient for 
him and more for him than any, and very prejudici- 
ally and hurtful if any other should rent it. Which 
the duchess receiving, presently sent to the king's 
office accepting the farm, desiring to know the 
price. It was replied forty thousand ducats ; and 
this same to be paid in few days all in ready 
money ; and to be paid as the order was before the 
^estate could be passed. The duchess put to this 
exigence presently to provide so much money, liv- 
ing in Madrid, the Court being then at Valladolid 
<almost one hundred miles off) where the money 
was to be paid, by the assistance of a friend, she 
presently had lent her fourteen thousand ducats. 
For the rest, which was twenty-six thousand 
•ducats, she presently despatched a messenger, 
writing to Zafra to the governor of the duke's 
estate to call the tenants and solicit them for 
this sum, showing the necessity of present pay- 
ment, and promising by her letter repayment 
within four months. The messenger came to Zafra 
about eleven o'clock before noon. The gover- 
nor having read the duchess her letter, sent his 
man presently to most of the principal of the town 
to meet him at the town-house at two o'clock ; 


1 13 

in which place they assemble at the sam^ hour. 
The governor read to them the du::h3S'/s btter, 
and so requested their answer. And this f j'lowsd ; 
that by seven o'clock the same evening th^ whole 
tw^enty-six thousand ducats were brought to ths 
governor's house without any further reply, or re-* 
quest of more security of bills or bands than the 
promise of the bare letter that she wrote. This 
the governor himself reported to me, admiring it 
when we were at the solemnity of her funeral. 
Such was the love and respect the tenants had 
always to her, albeit a stranger; having merited 
it by her affable and excellent government. 



The duchess for her own private entertainment 
gave herself wholly from the death of her husband 
to a recollected kind of life, putting from her all 
ostentation of greatness, both in attendance, 
apparel, and house-furniture, as usually all 
widows of respect do in Spain. She, always 
upholding what was necessary for the service of 
her son and the managing of his estate, wholly 
employed her time in virtuous exercises, serving 
Almighty God in works of piety ; wherein to her 
death she so exemplarly continued as that all 
sorts, both religious and secular, the greatest 
and the meanest, had her in respect and 

So likewise was her house governed. Holiness 
at home ; courage abroad ; prudence everywhere. 
Her servants were provided of all things neces- 


sary according to their place, office, and merit ; 
their rations and wages always paid most 
punctually. In sickness or other infirmities, her 
regard and severe commandment to have the 
physician called, were the sick man the meanest 
in her service ; and orderly to be provided and 
given whatsoever the physician appointed. She 
gave leave and special charge to all her servants 
daily to hear Mass; and when Mass was read 
every day in her own oratory her care was that 
all her women servants should be present at the 
beginning; for the men-servants might go abroad 
to church. Very exact was her order that all 
her family should go to confession on all the 
solemn feasts of the year, and likewise the feasts 
of our Blessed Lady. That they should be 
advised to keep the Commandments of God and 
of His holy Church ; should be friends of truth, 
extremely abhorring the contrary ; should live in 
peace; be chaste and honest in their comport- 
ment; for the shew of the contrary in any 
gesture or condition did much offend her. Yea, 
she did so govern her house and family as she 
may be a notable example for others to follow. 
By her careful providence, disengaging her house, 
as hath been said, of such great debts as lay 


upon it; and breeding up her son with that noble 
and virtuous education, as hath been also de- 
clared. Her service was a school and pious 
nursery of virtue and an exemplar to all that had 
the happiness to serve her; for divers of them 
left the world and became religious. I think 
that during the forty years she lived a widow, 
few passed that some or other went not out of 
her house into religion, as I knew divers that 
had been her servants of the Order of St. Francis, 
both Descal90s and others; some of St. Dominic's 
Order, some Augustines, Benedictines,Jesuits, and 
others. Thus was her house and family governed. 
The second virtue of St. Paul's widow is, to 
honour and have great respect to parents. Ac- 
cording to the next and strict literal sense the 
duchess had no matter to perform this counsel ; 
for that before she was a widow, her grandfather, 
grandmother and mother died, and her father 
soon after, who was in England married to 
another wife and had divers children, and she in 
Spain. But while he lived she was not unmindful 
to offer and present the respect that did. become 
her ; and for the deceased, her prayers and the 
Sacrifice of the Church, which she had care 
should be offered for their souls, were testimony 


of her love and honour to them ; giving large 
alms to particular monasteries only for this 
office. And the former course of her life (namely 
to her grandmother who brought her up,) is a 
plain evidence how mindful she was of this duty ; 
over whose body (which lieth in the choir before 
the high altar in the Charterhouse of Louvain) 
together with her sister, the Lady Hungerford, 
she caused a fair tomb to be erected ; and gave 
to the monastery a hundred florins of rent for 
ever. But if the parents live not (whom she 
may corporally serve, assist, and cherish), this 
counsel may fitly be applied to their souls ; for 
widows rarely see their parents live, being for the 
most part parents themselves. 

In her love and regard to the duke her son, 
and likewise to his son, her grandchild, when he 
was young and capable of instruction, her care 
and vigilance were more than ordinary or natural ; 
for no occasion might make her omit her virtuous 
advices and admonitions (yea, even when they 
were men and married) to serve God and live 
virtuously. And for example among many, this 
passed in mine own hearing. When the duke 
that now is, her grandson, was honoured with 
the knighthood and habit of St. James, and 


solemnly invested in the church of St. Dominic 
in Madrid ; the solemnity being done, he coming 
to his grandmother the duchess (for her house 
was near to it) with his red cross on his breast, 
she congratulating his new honour spoke to him 
in effect these words : " Son, you are now a new 
man; for in taking this habit, you are entered 
fnto many new obligations ; and all are to bind 
you to be a faithful and valorous knight in the 
service of Almighty God and His Church. This 
cross upon your breast is to put you in remem- 
brance under Whose banner you serve, and 
"Whose soldier you are ; and so a motive to have 
Him always before your eyes Who by His death 
made the Cross honourable, as you have it for an 
honour to wear it where you do. And since that 
His greatest enemy is sin, it is your part to fight 
and war always against sin ; for otherwise it will 
be but false dealing to bear His colours and yield 
to His enemy. Good son, reflect upon this, and 
do your best to put it in practice, and you will be 
honoured both of God and men. And so God 
Almighty give you the joy I wish you with it." 
And then she kissed his cheek. And so with 
tenderness on both sides she gave and he took 
her blessing upon his knee. 


The Lady Hungerford, as hath been said, was 
her only sister by father and mother, who married 
with an unkind husband. She being oppressed 
by him for her conscience, with his permis- 
sion, in 1571, came over into Flanders ; where 
being ill-paid (or not at all paid,) that which was 
promised and was due to her from her husband, 
and too much neglected by her friends in England, 
found to her death the cherishing love of her 
sister the duchess in so favourable and continuing 
bounty with great affection, as she deducted from 
her own maintenance to assist her, as I know 
and have seen by many specialties performed to 
her, both in life and death. 

Among others that attended the duchess out of 
England was Mrs. Margaret Harrington, sister to 
the Lord Harrington, her cousin german. She 
married her to a noble gentleman of worth, Don 
Benito Cisneros, and gave her in dowry twenty 
thousand ducats. She at her death, acknow- 
ledging the great favours and bounty she had 
received from the duchess, (having before buried 
her husband and two children she had by him,) 
for gratitude, with her means remaining, founded 
in Zafra the greatest part of a monastery of 
religious women of the holy Order of St. Francis, 


%vhere ker body lies buried. The duchess being 
in the estate of widowhood for so many years 
and in the many troubles that happened, such as 
sickness and other temporal crosses, to such as 
were dearest unto her ; in all, ever shewed great 
example of Christian patience and confidence in 
Almighty God ; and particularly in the death of 
the duke, her only son. Hereof I was an eye- 
witness. By his death she was not only left 
without a son, but without any living or estate in 
the world to maintain her. For her allowance, 
by her own request and assignment, was allotted 
her out of the Encomienda^ of Segura, which, 
the duke dying, fell into the king's hands, wholly 
to be disposed where the king pleased. And 
with the heavy news of the duke's death, she not 
knowing his testament, nor what he might 
appoint for her, now seventy years of age, in a 
strange country, deprived of her son, wholly 
destitute of living, and without notice of any 
certain means for the sustenance of her and her 
family, yet fainted not in the trust of her certain 
Refuge, commending all to His Divine Provi- 
dence, saying confidently : ** Lord, Thy holy Will 
be done." But the duke had ordained and com- 
^ Already explained, see p. 124. 


manded that she should be supplied and provided 
for to content, charging his son to fulfil it. 

The persecution of Catholics in her country 
was a great affliction to her ; that many times 
with tears and hearty compassion did she hear 
and report their troubles ; yet her resolution was 
ever, saying, " Let us hope and trust in God ; 
He will deliver us. The conversion of our country 
will be God Almighty's own work; therefore 
whosoever goes about upon their own valour^ 
learning, devices, inventions, or any practice 
whatsoever to reduce it,, as stealing the honour 
from God to this their drift* and invention, it will 
not succeed. Our sins made the ruin, but God 
must and will restore the building. In the mean- 
while let us hope and trust in His Divine mercy^ 
expecting His heavenly pleasure, not omitting to 
pray daily and implore His goodness, and other 
good men to use their labours and learning ta 
win souls, as out of foreign seminaries they have 
happily begun," A worthy speech and resolution 
in the trust of Almighty God. 



Upon St, Bernard's day, the 20th of August, 
1609, the Duchess of Infantadzo, poming to visit 
her, the Duchess of Feria received her in the 
hall, they both contending to give in courtesy- 
each other the precedence, our duchess carrying 
her left arm in a scarf by reason of a pain she 
had in her breast on that side, (for that the 
stirring of her arm might not offend her breast, 
which also was much weakened, the pain of the 
breast decaying the strength of it,) the Duchess 
of Infantadzo taking her by that hand would put 
her before her ; which doing with some force, the 
other pulling her arm back, so wrested between 
both, broke the bone a little above the elbow ; at 
which suddenly our duchess gave a sighing groan, 
saying " Mi brago esta quebrado " (My arm is 


broken), I, being the next before the duchess, 
astonished at the sudden cry and complaint, not 
imagining it could be broken with so small a vio- 
lence, rather thinking it might be put out of joint, 
called her women, who came to her, and taking 
her arm affirmed the same. The pain being 
extreme, servants were sent with all speed to 
find a bone-setter, and advised to a lame one who 
was said to be skilful. The first found came to 
her, took her in hand, and said it was broken ; 
but the unskilful fellow, lame of both his legs, 
handled her very roughly. She was forced to 
apply her body, weak and full of pain, to his 
. hands ; which he, tying up very rudely and im- 
perfectly, to her exceeding dolour, she complain- 
ing of his unskilfulness, his rude handling and 
the extreme pain he put her to ; the duke her 
grandson being then called and present, and 
likewise the physician, who much reproving him 
for the undertaking and performing it so un- 
worthily, was made to leave her, and present 
commandment was given to seek the king's bone- 
setter, one called Cuen9a ; who being found after 
much seeking, came instantly, late at night. He 
unbinding her arm, exclaimed against the unskil- 
. fulness of the former surgeon, felt it splintered. 


and so bound it up in the presence of the 
physicians, all visiting her together twice or 
thrice a day. 

Yet this bone-setter's skill proved not so good ; 
for she remained still with extremity of pain and 
without rest, still complaining that the bone was 
not well set. Which a lady, a kinswoman of the 
Duke, feeling, wished that a bone-setter out of 
the country, whom she had tried, might be sent 
for; commending him much both for his skill 
and good fortune in his cures. This man dwelt 
twenty-six or twenty-seven leagues from Madrid. 
I presently sent for him with the most speed that 
might be; who arrived within three days, a plain 
country fellow, who would not touch her but in 
the presence of the physicians, for which we liked 
him the better. He asked her Grace of the man- 
ner of her pain, and v/here it most afflicted her, and 
at the coming of the physician he unbound her 
arm and palpably showed the error of the cure, 
which the physicians plainly saw ; and all present 
with the touch of the hand might perceive that a 
splint of the cracked bone stood out and was not 
fixed in its place. And this was seven or eight 
days after the first dressing ; in which time may 
be supposed the great pain she passed, in so deli- 



cate and aged a body of seventy-two years. This 
man dressed it, bound it up and took upon him 
the cure ; the king's bone-setter being dismissed. 
The good duchess remained afterwards frcm 
this time forty days] together in her bed in one 
posture, without turning her ; for if she stirred, 
the pain of her arm would force her to lie still on 
her back; notwithstanding, in these extremities, 
marvellous was her hope and confidence in 
Almighty God, passing all with quiet and admir- 
able sufferance and patience, as the holy Tobias. 
For whereas she had always feared God from her 
infancy, and kept His commandments, she repined 
not against God because of the trouble which had 
befallen her, but continued immovable in the 
fear of God all the days of her life.^ In 
these pains of* her. arm and breast, and all 
other adverse chances whatsoever, either corporal 
or external, she always with a notable conformity 
submitted herself to the will of our Lord, beseech- 
ing His Divine Majesty to do with her as might 
be most pleasing to His holy service and to the 
salvation of her soul ; and daily, (but chiefly 
when these pains most troubled and tormented 
her) did she repeat this sentence in the Spanish 
1 See Tobias ii. 13, i|. 


tongue, written with her own hand in her book of 
flowers. "Lord, Thou knowest what is conveni- 
ent for the health of my soul ; I beseech Thee so 
to succour my corporal necessities as I may not 
lose the spiritual." 

The first' place of visit that she made going out 
of her hduse after this painful accident, which was 
the 26th of October following, was a pilgrimage 
to the chapel of our Blessed Lady at a monastery 
of the Dominicans called Atocha, a place of 
great concourse and devotion. By which, and 
many other troublesome occurrences that came 
upon her in this her widow's estate, doth notably 
appear the lively trust and Christian hope she 
had in God- Almighty, as will likewise be seen in 
her last sickness. 

I might compare this good duchess in her way 
of living to the notablest matrons that have been 
in the Christian world. For ordinarily, if possi- 
bility of health suffered, she rose with the day in 
summer and in winter before day, and being soon 
ready, she went into her oratory, where she 
remained 'until she had heard Mass. For between 
seven and eight o'clock in summer-time, but in the 
winter somewhat later, her chaplain came to say 
Mass ; and if both chaplains were at home they 


both said Mass, and often other priests and 
religious came thither, and ordinarily she heard 
all. And having heard Mass she called such 
servants as had the guiding of her aifairs to know 
how business went, and to appoint what should 
be done. She daily read the Office. of our Blessed 
Lady, the Office of the Holy Cross, and of the 
Holy Ghost ; at certain times the whole Office of 
the Dead, and the Gradual Psalms, and on some 
certain special feasts the whole; Office of the 
Breviary. She no day omitted to say the general 
litanies, and other particular litanies as the day 
and time required. She weekly, and all the 
feasts of the year, frequented the holy Sacra- 
ments of Confession and Communion. Never 
was she idle, but was either praying, working, 
reading or disposing the affairs of her house, 
except when strangers or persons of quality came 
to visit her, or she in correspondent courtesy 
went to visit them ; which time she often com- 
plained was burdensome to her. After that her 
sight was not so good to work curious works, she 
employed her labour to work for the poor ; and 
the last she did was to sew and hem sheets for 
the hospital. Her other former works were 
sumptuous and precious, wrought for God's 


service and the use of the Church ; and the last 
she worked were the ornaments for priest and 
altar given by her to the new English seminary 
in Madrid. 

All the solemn and principal feasts of the year 
she failed not to hear even-song and High Mass 
in the monastery of St. Dominic, or of the 
Angels, being Franciscan nuns in the same 
street ; where the offices were performed with 
great solemnity, music, and devotion ; and she 
continued there, the whole office being very long. 
In the Holy Week she was in a manner con- 
tinually in the church ; and the latter four days 
spent daily there ten or eleven hours. 

When her sight failed to see to work, as I say, 
she passed the most time in reading devout and 
spiritual books, as the Meditations of St. Augus- 
tine, his Confessions, and the Manual, in the 
Spanish tongue ; the lives of Saints, which she 
daily read herself, being well ; and in her weak- 
ness they were read to her in the hearing of her 
women servants. She had ever with this devotion 
all true humility. She was an enemy to vanity 
and flatter}' ; yet could not be hidden, as many 
religious and persons of the best fame desired to 
be remembered in her prayers, as did that holy 


nun of St. Francis' Order in Carion de los Condes, 
whom for rare sanctity and true heavenly virtues, 
the wisest, learnedest, religiousest, and mightiest 
in Spain, did admire, whom the king and queen 
went often to visit and to be partaker of her 
counsel and prayers. This religious virgin did 
sometimes write to the duchess, desiring corres- 
pondence by letters, some whereof I have seen, 
and was astonished at the style, to see a woman 
write with so high wisdom of Divine reasons and 
counsels of perfection, which to me showed an 
apostolic spirit. Divers Popes have written 
particular Briefs to the duchess, commending 
themselves to her prayers ; as Pope Gregory 
XIIL, Pope Sixtus V., Pope Clement VIII., 
whose letters I have seen and read.^ 

The noble widows of Spain, by a laudable and 
worthy custom observed among them, are free 
of the fondness and blemish of affecting worldly 
fashions ; for after the death of their husbands, 
they retire themselves from all worldly vanity 
and ostentation, their apparel being the plainest 
and cheapest stuffs, never wearing gold, silver, 
jewel, silk or lace. Their own lodgings are 

' Namely, one of Pope Paul the Fifth, dated at St. Mark's, 
Rome, I St May, 1607. 



hanged in winter with plain, coarse black cloth, 
and in hotter weather with buckrams, or such 
coarse poor stuifs. Their ser\'ants and attendants 
had but what was necessary, without show of 
light bravery. Their o^vn upper garments were 
■worn under a coarse black mantle, a toke of 
Avhite linen that covers all their person. And 
seldom or never do they take another husband, 
except they be heirs, very young and without 
schildren. I know a lady, the only daughter of 
the Marquis of Velada, majordomo mayor to the 
king, married at eighteen years of age to the 
Duke of Medina Celi. Before the year came 
about she had a son and the duke her husband 
died. She could not be brought to marry again, 
nor would give her son another father ; holding 
it much dishonour and disparagement to their 
person, house and children, to marry again. For' 
the law saith : "A woman passing to second 
vows neglecteth the three best things — God, the 
memory of her deceased husband, and the love 
of her children." 

Our duchess, when her husband died, was in 
the thirty-fourth year of her age, mother of one 
only son, then twelve years old ; the duke not 
above fifty when he died; which, comparing all 


their ages together, seemed to be the time that 
the dehght and comfort of each other should 
have been most. She in her husband, not yet 
begun to be old; in her son, now growing to 
years of understanding; the duke in her, now 
married to her thirteen years ; now well ac- 
quainted with the language, air, customs and 
conditions of that country ; and the more for 
that he was then named and appointed by the 
king for governor of the Low-Countries, where 
they should have lived so near to England and to 
her friends. Herein they both took (as the 
duchess told me) an extraordinary consolation ; 
for the duke, being then with the king, wrote 
the Parabien * of the news to her, willing her to 
advertise her grandmother, who then w^a§ alive 
at Louvain. But the duchess, although most 
glad with the news, wrote again to the duke : **I 
dare not write it to my grandmother, lest some- 
thing might succeed to cross it ; and she, crossed 
in the joyful expectation, might turn to the 
prejudice of her health and life. And being the 
most comfortable news to my temporal desires 
which I have heard since my coming out of 

* Parabien is explained by the dictionary of the Spanish 
Academy as meaning Congratulation, Felicitation. 


England, yet I dare not believe it, until we be 
in the way ; lest believing it and not succeeding, 
I should do myself no little harm." And these 
crosses succeeded that her grandmother died the 
same month of July, and the duke in September 
following. The son also seemed to be in forward 
happiness, being in the age to know the worth of 
his father and the goodness and virtue of his 
mother. But these delights and comforts were 
all wholly dashed with the state of a widow, 
who never after took delight in the world but for 
the breeding of her son, as was fitting his years 
and quality ; in all things banishing from herself, 
both in clothing and diet, all that might show 

In the year 1588, when that famous hypocrisy 
of the Dominican nun of Lisbon, who pretended 
the ambition of a Saint, called Soror Maria de 
Visita9ion, was discovered ; who by pricking her 
head with thorns, by wounding her side and hands 
to the imitation of St. Francis and St. Catharine 
of Sienna, by putting herself to grievous smart for 
this ambitious vanity, would persuade the world 
that they were by some sovereign apparition so 
fi'xed in her body as they were in those glorious 
Saints, and by counterfeit raptures, had procured 


such an esteem as from all parts of Spain they 
sent and came to her to have her benediction 
and some linen clothes sprinkled with the blood 
of her wounds ; which she carried so cunnningly, 
as all in a manner held her for a Saint. The 
king himself, Philip II., albeit very incredulous in 
such matters, but upon firm evidences and testi- 
monies admitted by the Church, yet by sundry 
relations made to his majesty began to give credit 
to this so general report of the nun. And I have 
heard by some, (whether true or no, I know not), 
that in the year 1588, when that great Spanish 
fleet went for England, many of the banners 
were carried to her to bless (a great rashness 
and presumption in her to do it), being, as she was, 
a mere hyprocrite, shortly after found out and 
proved : and after strict examination, being Prior- 
ess then of the monastery, confessed by herself 
(the same year, the 15th of October) that these 
were devices of her invention to be accounted a 
Saint. The story is notorious, and had deceived 
many wise, great, learned and good Religious. 
She, being convicted, was chastised and was very 
penitent, refusing no penance, but desiring as 
much as flesh and blood might bear. 
But to our purpose. While the fame thus ran 


(if her wounds and of her sanctity, and was gen- 
erally so reputed, a great Religious man who had 
seen her and such effects as induced the credit of 
her supposed sanctity, being with the duchess, 
she asked some particulars about her, and among 
the rest of her conversation and diet, whether he 
knew anything of her in the one and observed 
her in the other, he being of the same Order. 
He answered : " Madam, your question is worth 
the moving, which made me at first to doubt her 
before I saw the effects, because she converses 
with most that seek her, especially such as are 
of reckoning, and spends much time in conversa- 
tion. For her diet ; she being the Superior in the 
Convent and held so holy, I know she hath many 
dainties sent her, and I hear not that she depriv- 
eth herself of any part of that which the monas- 
tery and the Order allows her." Our Duchess 
replied. *' Is it so? I fear this sanctity is tem- 
poral, and will not long last. For all Saints, 
memorable to have been great servants of God 
Almighty, have had their eminence in these two 
virtues. For their private persons, recollection 
and abstinence, properly united to the true service 
of His Divine Majesty, but when necessity and 
charity enforced. And the contrary (to wit, con- 


versation and dainties, with variety of gustful 
diet) were baits to worldly love and inducements 
to sin ; " alleging the example of St. Martin a^nd 
the holy woman that excused herself to see him ; 
of St. Francis, St. Dominic, St. Clare and others. 

The love of chastity and of chaste persons in 
the duchess I have noted before. The least 
gesture of the contrary either in shew or speech 
was marvellously displeasing to her; she com- 
mending very often the pure and clean soul of 
Queen Mary her mistress, whose education had 
been so chaste and innocent of impurity as she 
knew not the meaning of sluttish terms or foul, 
unchaste words, as I touched in the description 
of her life. 

I will add here what an ancient lady in England 
did tell me of her before my coming to Spain, 
who was a courtier. Queen Mary being in the 
gallery ready to go to the chapel, within the 
traverse, the Lord William Howard,^ Lord 
Chamberlain being with her, he taking his leave ; 
without the traverse stood the maids of honour. 

* Lord WiUiam Howard's name occurs very frequently in 
the Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary, and in such 
terms as to show that he was a frequent visitor in her house- 


expecting to wait on the queen to the chapel. 
Mrs. Frances Neville® standing next to the 
traverse, the Lord Chamberlain passing by, a 
merry gentleman, took her by the chin, saying: 

" My pretty "^ how dost thou ? '' Which the 

queen saw and heard, the traverse being drawn. 
The queen gone forth, finding her farthingale at 
her foot loose, made sign to Mrs. Neville to pin 
it, which, kneeling down, she did. The queen 
then took her by the chin, as he had done saying, 
" God-a-mercy, my pretty. . . ." She hearing the* 
queen say thus, so blushed as she seemed to be 
astonished, replying: ** Madam, what says your 
majesty ? " still upon her knees, and seemed to 
be much troubled. The queen answered, *' What 
is the matter ? Have I said or done more than 
the Lord Chamberlain did ? And may not I be 
as bold with thee as he ? " She replied : " My 
Lord Chamberlain is an idle gentleman, and we 
respect not what he saith or doth ; but your 
majesty, from whom I think never any heard 
such a word, doth amaze me either in jest or 
earnest to be called so by you." A ... is a 

^ Possibly the lady who is mentioned in the same Privy 
Purse Expenses, pp. 192, 196, 197, 198. 

' The expression here used will not bear repetition. 


wicked misliving woman. The queen took it, 
**Thou must forgive me; for I meant thee no 

Thus chaste were the thoughts and words 
of this renowned princess and such was the 
reputation of her family, in which chaste school 
was bred this our duchess ; excellently well 
learning her lesson and imitating her mis- 
tress as in her will and purpose she did ex- 
ceedingly abhor and detest all impurities and 
unclean words. And I have known that she 
hath plainly, yet with reserved modesty, told 
great men of note and worth the dishonour and 
misery they purchased to themselves by the base 
actions of unchaste lives; and would boldly 
reprove such with whom she had any interest of 
friendship. Nor were any, of what degree soever, 
who had the fame of such a life, ever welcome to 
her. And being by chance told that certain 
women were met in the duke her grandson's 
coach, that had not the best reputation, she 
would never afterwards enter again into that 
coach. Divers of our noble English gentlemen, 
at their being in the court of Spain and visiting 
her, admired in her this virtue, so carried with 
such a graceful manner as they wished that she 


might for a time live in her own country to be 
an example of imitation to our great ladies. It 
is the virtue that setteth out and adorneth all 
other virtues, especially in women, being the 
speech of the body and the interpreter of the 

A lie was most odious to her, which in her 
pages and younger sort she would have sharply 
chastised as an enormous fault. And the servant 
that she found to have told her an untruth fell 
much from her favour, she holding it a vice most 
unworthy of a Christian. She, faithful and 
punctual in promises, advised before what she 
promised, held it a chief point of honour and 
religion to perform it. And for facility in giving 
credit to the reports of others, she measured them 
by her own intentions, observing this columbine 
and candidous simplicity under the rule of char- 
itable construction; albeit in matters that im- 
ported the honour of God, the government of her 
weightier affairs, her credulity was not so great 
and facile, but directed by the rule of God's 
Church and discussed with that prudence as she 
would not easily be deceived or over-reached. 

Of mildness had she great use at her first 
coming into Spain, particularly among the kin- 


dred of the duke her husband, his mother then 
living; who was not pleased with the match, for 
that she had purposed to marry the duke with 
her grandchild, the daughter of Count Don Pedro, 
her eldest son. But the duke, avoiding and pre- 
venting so near a match in blood as his niece, 
married as he did ; which so angered his mother 
as she married her to his younger brother (as 
hath been sard) and passed to him the Marquis- 
ship of Pliego, an estate of one hundred thou- 
sand ducats by the year, and so made 
a suit between the two brothers. Yet the 
duchess carried herself towards her mother- 
in-law, with that mildness and affable respect 
as it afterwards grieved the Marquesa of 
what she had done ; and she continued to 
the children of the younger brother (whereof 
I am a witness) that love and regard as if her 
husband had suffered no wrong by their father, 
and the like to all the kindred ; notwithstanding 
the suit was on foot between her son and his 
cousin-german, the heir of that house; so gracious 
and mild was she in forgetting injuries. 



I HAVE before showed the bringing up of her son 
and the pious government of her house, family 
and children ; yet I may not omit a discreet 
policy that she used in the education of the 
dukes, her son and grandson, to make them follow 
their book and apply their lessons. 

Their first exercise in the morning was to hear 
Mass, which was done before eight o'clock. Then 
they went to their book, their master being in the 
house, he read them their lesson ; which heard 
and they able to construe, they broke their fast. 
Then were they set a task, which they were to 
repeat to their master before dinner. When din- 
ner was ready and to be brought in, she asked 
their master if they had done their lessons. If 


yea, all well ; and there was some reward, or con- 
tentment, commending their diligence ; if no, the 
duchess commanded presently not to bring in the 
meat, telling them with a sweet reprehension,. 
"Although you will not dine yourselves ; yet keep 
not me from my dinner at a due time ; for I must 
not nor can eat until you have done your lessons- 
and said your book as you ought ; and so I, your 
mother, (when he learned, to her son ; and to her 
grandson, I your grandmother) an old woman,^ 
must be punished for your negligence. You see my 
care is that you want nothing that is fit for you,, 
and I must want my meat for your play and idle- 
ness. Go to your study and make an end quickly 
that the meat be not spoiled, for we must all fast 
till you have done." Which served as a prudent 
correction and discreet encouragement to them to 
apply to their books, and diligently to perform 
their studies in due time. 

I showed before the singular zeal this lady and 
the duke her husband used in the time of Lent,, 
and -especially in the Holy Week, and the great 
feasts of the year, with marvellous devotion, hu- 
mility and charity to the poor Descal90s Friars 
De La Lapa, in serving them and feeding them.. 
And it is very ordinary among the great ladies in 



Spain to visit hospitals and to give the sick and 
diseased to eat with their own hand, to serve 
them, to wipe their sores, to cleanse their wounds, 
to feed and cherish them with such alacrity and 
humble diligence as evidently sheweth that it 
proceedeth from true fervour of Christian devotion 
and piety, which is really to wash the feet of 

The Cardinal of Rhemes calleth our duchess 
another Queen Helena, who with liberal bounty 
employed her goods to succour the Scots, English 
and Irish, and other afflicted .and fugitive 
Catholics, who had recourse into • Spain for the 
exercise of their faith and religion. At one 
time she procured the release of thirty-eight 
Englishmen, prisoners in Seville, being all taken 
in the West Indies and sentenced to die, and 
some merchant's accused for assisting them with 
shipping and other provision for that voyage. 
As one Mr. Norris, a merchant of Barnstaple 
in Devonshire, and sometime Mayor of that 
town, and one of that company, hath told me, 
much magnifying the charity and affection of the 
duchess to her distressed countrymen, and the 
obligation that he and his followers had to her 
for their lives and liberty. At divers other times, 


especially after the differences grew to professed 
quarrels between the crowns of England and 
Spain, sundry such adverse accidents falling out, 
men having recourse to our duchess, by her 
mediation had their release procured and their 
present extremities assisted with liberal benevo- 
lence, although I hold few of these for saints ; yet 
because they fell into trouble, she of her goodness 
was forward to help them ; which I think Sir 
Richard Hawkins of Plymouth, prisoner in 
Madrid in the latter time of Queen Elizabeth, 
will acknowledge. 

But to. come to a saint, (one who at least died 
a saint and martyr) when the Queen of Scots, 
forced by her rebellious subjects to leave her 
country, had fled into England, expecting there 
to have refuge and assistance, according to 
promise, found the contrary, to wit, restraint 
and such other hard measure as her rents out of 
France came not to her ; which our good duchess 
understanding, solicited the duke her husband, 
then living, in her behalf, who sent her twenty 
thousand ducats to relieve her present necessities. 
If acts of charity to Catholic priests and gentle- 
men of our country, whom domestic calamities 
and oppressions caused to seek refuge abroad, 


should be here particularly set down, I should 
enter into a large narration, and could myself 
declare many particulars, the bounty of which 
pious actions has passed to many by my hands. 
But in so doing I should do wrong to the godly 
intention of the ' good lady, although deceased, 
who could not endure to have such deeds 
numbered nor yet remembered, who not willingly 
would have their own names, or the names of 
their friends, mentioned in this kind. This our 
good duchess had spared much from the lustre 
of herself, both for diet (in which she was mar- 
vellous temperate) and for other appurtenances 
to her person, to be able to do the more good 

It hath fallen out in the time that I served her 
often, and was her usual custom, when any 
gentleman of quality that she knew and had any 
acquaintance with her, that lay sick and was 
thought to be in want, she commanded her 
steward, or the gentleman that had the charge 
of the private expenses of her house, to put up 
(tied in a paper) a hundred crowns, or sixty, or 
or fifty, or forty, or thirt)^, or twenty, or so much 
as it pleased her, according to the want and con- 
dition of the party, which she would take so 


bound up, and put in her pocket when she went to 
visit the party ; and after salutation and pious ad- 
vices as occasion was offered, at her coming away> 
taking leave with words of comfort, would put the 
paper under the pillow of the sick person. And 
to others with whom she was not so well acquaint- 
ed in their distress, if any spake to our duchess for 
them, she seldom or never denied, but they tasted 
her bounty according to their quality and her 
means. She was very respective and compas- 
sionate to such as were of noble blood and 
ingenuous education, who by some disaster had 
fallen into wants ; pitying their estate that had 
been fed and bred with plenty and were afterward 
necessitated to have relief and sustenance by the 
alms and bounty of strangers. Of this sort, of 
our country, of Irish and of Spaniards and 
French also, I could relate them that in a high 
kind were beholding to the bounty of our duchess. 
Her ordinary allowance was to give bread and 
money to the poor religious monasteries and 
hospitals of Madrid, and to those of St. Francis 
bread and eggs. An ordinary allowance of alms 
every month was to be given in money by the 
gentlewoman that kept the expenses of the house 
to such poor as asked at the door. Never any 



English priest or other stranger, poor Englishman 
or other that pretended need, who asked of her, 
or otherwise by some of her servants .desired 
relief of their wants, but had from her a charit- 
able benevolence. And seldom did she refuse 
to see any Englishman who asked it, were he 
never so mean. The general hospital of Madrid, 
weekly, as is said, received her alms, and in 
other necessities were succoured with sheets and 
blankets required. Many poor widows and 
orphans in the duke's estate had perpetual 
maintenance by her charity. Many Sundays and 
Holy-days did she send the whole supper of the 
Recollects Descal90s of St. Francis's Order in 
Madrid with some extraordinary good supply, 
being particularly devoted to that Order. For 
she herself had taken the habit of the Third 
Order of St. Francis and was professed in it, 
wearing under her outward garment the habit 
and scapulary while she lived. In suits or 
pretences that any of our countrymen had in the 
court of Spain, very forward was she, if they 
sought it, with her best means to assist them, to 
write in their favour to the Lords of the Council, 
and to send some friend or servant with them to 
further their business. And such as wanted 


foiHid other aidful relief. Thus was she daily in 
doing good works. 

If her means had answered her desires for the 
founding, furnishing and adorning of monasteries, 
she had been one of the notablest patronesses in 
the Christian world, wholly addicted to the 
service of God and the glorifying of His eternal 
Name. I have heard our duchess say that if in 
her time, our kingdom should be so happy as to 
admit the public face of Catholic Religion again, 
she would endeavour to be the first with the poor 
means she had to build a monastery of St. 
Francis's Order and completely to furnish it; 
knowing and acknowledging the general good 
that those Religious do in a christian country ; 
and while she lived she built the monastery of 
Monte-Virgine of that Order, Descalgos Recol- 
lects, and Santa Marina in Zafra, Nuns of the 
Order of St. Clare. Through the whole course 
of her life she was not sparing in advancing these 
good works ; as in repairing St. Onophrio de la 
Lapa, our Lady del Rosario of St. Dominic ; in 
furnishing these and others with rich ornaments, 
costly pictures ; devout confraternities ; as all the 
churches and monasteries in Zafra and all in the 
duke's estate have her in perpetual memory. 


Also she procuring from the Apostolic See great 
privileges and indulgences for their better estab- 
lishing, continuance and increase ; the effect 
whereof the great church of Zafra and Sta. Clara, 
an ancient rich monastery of Franciscan Nuns 
in that town, do largely enjoy. Fray Juan Bap- 
tista Moles saith (in his book and chapter before 
alleged), "There are two hermitages, one very 
ancient and dedicated to St. Onophrio and St. 
Paul the first hermit ; and the other, which the 
duchess, the Lady Jane Dormer, built to St. John 
the Evangelist, very beautiful, pleasant and de- 
vout, which Don Juan de Ribera, Bishop of Bad- 
ajos, and afterwards Archbishop of Valencia and 
Patriarch of Antioch, did consecrate." And our 
duchess, in the end of her life, all that she could 
leave besides her household stuff which descend- 
ed to the duke, and some few remembrances left 
to friends and servants (for there was no servant 
that served her, at the time of her death, but 
had some remembrance or legacy given him) and 
b2sides what was bequeathed to the poor and to 
say Masses for her soul, all was left to monaster- 
ies. Yea, the annuities that she left for life to 
her most obliged servants were in reversion to 
the cloister of Santa Marina, in which she ha< 



built a marvellous fair church with a fair gallery 
from the duke's palace ; and above, at the end of 
the gallery, an oratory, from which they may hear 
and see Mass at the high altar, in which work is 
showed magnificence and devotion. 



After the breaking of her arm, the extreme pain 
of her breast still continuing, our duchess daily 
grew weaker, and many times with such accidents 
of hot agues as in that great age and feebleness 
of body she was ordered by the physicians to be 
let blood. So finding herself with a perpetual 
decay of strength and health she only expected 
that which escapes none ; having in her memory 
^nd often repeating that of the wise man, '^Me- 
^orare novissima tua, et in cetcrnum non peccabis.'' 
To this end she had fastened to her beads a 
death's-head (which beads she put into my hand, 
dying; which I have and much esteem), on which 


she meditated and often discoursed, having learnt 
of St. Hierome that notable sentence : *' He 
easily contemns all things, whose thoughts always 
tell him that he must die." And also for this 
end, she had made her testament and disposed 
her estate, having (as is shewed before) taken the 
habit of penance of the Third Order of St. Francis, 
to be participant of the graces and indulgences of 
that holy religion. She had entered herself into 
the list and number de Ancillis, or handmaids of 
our Blessed Lady, when in Sta. Ursula at Alcala, 
a convent of Franciscan nuns, was founded a 
sisterhood or congregation of them with this title,. 
" to the Queen of Angels ; " rejoicing to be the 
Ancilla of her, by whose mediation and gracious 
intercession she might attain grace to die welL 
Likewise did she ordain, many months before her 
death, her coffin to be made, in which her body 
should be entered, which when ordered, and the 
measure to be taken of her body, her women 
grew tender and wept, the duchess said: "Why 
weep you ? For this must be, and it cannot be 
long before it come— Weep not, but pray for me.. 
We must all die ; but that which imports, is tO' 
die well and to have a good end. And this is. 
that which I request of you all to commend me.* 


to God, that He vouchsafe to give me His grace 
to end well." 

Our duchess kept her bed almost twelve months 
before her death,. pained through her whole body, 
especially in her arm that had been broken ; for 
although it had been set and cured, yet the pain 
of her breast kept it very weak. And once, 
taking her little grand-daughter in her arms, 
being then the only child of the duke her grand- 
son, when the nurse took it from her, it so 
chanced as her arm a little strained, put her to 
that extremity of pain as she was falling down 
in a swoon; and after that it put her to such 
trouble and affliction as she could not lift it to 
her head, nor pluck out a pin with that hand, but 
carried it always in a scarf. Notwithstanding 
this infirmity and other exceeding dolours of her 
body, the same still was the exercise of her 
Christian virtues and her zeal to God's service ; 
for weekly she both confessed and communicated, 
had daily good men with her; no day did she 
leave to hear Mass. For when her weakness 
began to be such as she could hardly remain out 
of her bed, by license of the vicar of the Arch- 
bishop of Toledo, (who himself came to see the 
place for the decency of it,) her oratory was 


removed to another part, as from her bed, through 
the passage that entered into her chamber, she 
might see the altar, hear Mass, behold and adore 
the holy Sacrifice, which was her true comfort ; 
and so enjoyed it to the time of her decease, for 
the day that she died she heard Mass, Before 
her oratory was thus changed, in the summer- 
time she lay in a bedstead that turned with 
wheels, which at the time of Mass was set 
before the door of the oratory. But when 
winter came she was forced to remove to a 
warmer chamber; and had her oratory altered, 
as is said before. 

In the same time of this her sickness that 
Father Ribadeneira, (a very reverend, wise, 
learned and ancient Father of the Society; for 
he had lived seventy-one years in the Order, 
much respected and reverenced by the duchess, 
who likewise answered her grace with the same 
good-will and regardful affection,) whom I men- 
tioned before, having known her in England ; she, 
in all important occasions advised with him, 
asked his counsel, he esteeming her a very true 
and able friend, and often visiting her as to whose 
favours, both in his own particular and for the 
benefit of his Order, he stood much beholding. 


He dedicated to her (as before is noted ^) his book 
Dc los Santos Estravagantes ; to wit, such as were 
not in the Roman calendars of breviaries and 
missals. It fell out, I say, that this good Father, 
in September, 1610, fell mortally sick ; she then 
also lying in her bed sick. This, among other 
afflictions, she .accounted not the least, to want 
the assistance of so dear and esteemed a Father; 
and sent often to visit him, myself being for the 
most part the messenger. And the last message 
he sent her was this : " Commend me much to 
the duchess, and tell her that shortly we shall 
see each other in Paradise." This message she 
would have me repeat to her more than once, 
and took in it extraordinary consolation. This 
holy Father departed this world (I was present 
when he died) the 22nd of September, in the 
eighty-fifth year of his age, after great labours 
and travels taken in his religion, many worthy 
works set out by him to the edification of the 
Christian world, as appeareth in the catalogue of 
the writers of the Society, printed at Antwerp.^ 

1 See p. 7. 
^ See Catalogus Scriptorum reJigionis Societatts Jesu, auctore P. 
Petto Ribadeneira, p. 225 — 229, ed. Antv. 161 3, 8vo. It is stated 
in his epitaph that he died at Madrid, 22nd September, 161 1. 
Also Histoire du Plrt Ribadeneyra, par le Pere J. M. Prat. Paris, 


It pleased Almighty God, at that time also, to 
take out of this world the most virtuous and 
good Queen of Spain, who died at St. Laurence 
by the Escurial, the 3rd of October, 1611.* 
Which when our duchess heard, condoling the 
great loss of the whole kingdom ; (for her majesty 
was not twenty-eight years complete), having so 
many princely children deprived of so good a 
mother in the flower of her age; commanding 
presently mourning to be made for her servants, 
saying : " All Spain and Germany had true cause 
to mourn ; but she was worthy of a better king- 
dom, which this good lady had attained in so 
young years ; and I, poor woman and decrepit, 
do languish in this bed with pain and misery." 
Our duchess sent me to give the Pesume to the 
queen's ghostly Father, a Jesuit, that came 'v^ith 
her out of Germany, condoling his and the 
general loss. In doing the message, he could 
not for tears answer me, but wept like a child. 

In this extreme sickness, the pains being extra- 
ordinary that our good duchess suffered, yet when 
any came to visit her, were he religious, or a 
neighbour, or any gentlemam of our country, she 
received him with that alacrity and cheerfulness 

» This was Margaret of Austria, wife of Philip III., King of 
Spain, and daughter of Charles, Archduke of Gratz. 


of countenance, as increased an affectionate 
respect from them to her. Yea, such was the 
sweetness of her condition as drew a certain 
reverence and esteem from them who conversed 
with her ; and in this conversation, such was her 
mildness, gravity, and gracious deportment, as 
after such visit they affected and honoured her 
much more, as well might be applied to her what 
the Holy Scripture saith of the noble and 
memorable widow Judith : ** And she was among 
all most famous, because she feared our Lord 
very much ; neither was there that spake an ill 
word of her."* In this sickness, marvellous was 
the care our duchess took and the strict accoiint 
to make full satisfaction where any thing might 
be due, not alone for matters past but for to- 
come, and so she had provided for the burial; 
and the exact accomplishment of her testament,, 
having committed the charge to her faithful 
servants. For the better clearing of all questions,, 
she wrote, some months before she died, to the 
Contador and Treasurer, officers of the duke's' 
estate, (whereof she had been governess many 
years, as hath been said) charging them before 
God, that if they knew or could understand any 

* See Judith, viii. 8. 


thing wherein she might be indebted by way of 
justice or conscience that they should advise her; 
commanding them to take pains and use diligence 
to search and inquire if there should be any 
cause for restitution, and to demand and hear 
the complaints of all, and to advertise her that 
they might be remedied. These letters I wrote. 
And likewise did she call a servant, whom she 
much trusted, under whose charge passed, some 
years before she died, the general and great 
receipts and expenses of all accounts in her 
house, to have great care of this particular for 
satisfaction, commanding him to look well about 
and remember her where she might have any 
obligation. So Christian and fervent was her 
desire completely to satisfy with all that might 
be due in justice or conscience. And to her 
great cost did she deal with some, more by the 
way of pitiful than of obliged. As but three 
days before she died, taking compassion upon the 
master carpenter that had taken, too great, all 
the timber-work of the church of Sta. Marina, 
complaining that he had overshot himself in the 
bargain and was too great a loser, desired by way 
of petition to be considered. She did, having 
examined the business, in compassionate favour 


grant his suit and signed the Librangas for the 
recovery of this money ; which the man took so 
gratefully when I gave him the Libran9as (or 
warrants), wishing him to give some alms to the 
poor monastery in gratuity, he promised at the 
receipt of the money to give them a hundred 
ducats. Until three days before our duchess died 
she omitted not the saying of her usual prayers, as 
the Office of our Blessed Lady, her beads, and 
to have read to her the life of the Saint of the 
day. When she had not possibility of health to 
read her Office herself, she willed some other to 
read it for her. 

On Thursday night, the 19th of January, her 
infirmity increasing, I was present while her 
excellency supped, which she seemed to eat .with 
appetite and reasonable gust, her supper being 
a partridge and some jelly. After grace was said, 
she remaining sitting up in her bed, to wash her 
mouth and hands, as she usually did, she shewed 
so strangely fair with colour in her face, so clear 
and lively, as those who were present stood and 
admired at her sudden beauty ; so as one said to 
another, " Did you ever see a fairer face ? What 
may be the cause of this alteration ? Is her 
grace turned young again ? " And an ancient 


gentlewoman in the company (I was present) was 
bold to say to her, " Madam, your grace looks 
strangely fair on the sudden." She only smiled 
but replied nothing. One ^ of her servants that 
understood somewhat of the nature of the pulse, 
and in the absence of the physicians her grace 
did usually command him to take hers, a little 
before she went to take rest that night, taking it, 
told her women at his going out of the chamber, 
that my lady was not well, her pulse showed a 
greater weakness ; and that he perceived a certain 
malicious increase of her ague. And therefore 
on Friday morning very early he came to see how 
she had passed that night, and what had suc- 
ceeded. Then he found her pulse much worse 
and her forces strangely weakened. Her grace 
asked him how hp liked her pulse ? He answered 
with leisure, not so well as he wished. She 
importuned him to know the whole particular, 
and charged him to tell her plainly and truly his 
opinion. He told her the truth, and what he 
thought. And she acknowledged that in the 
same manner, or rather worse, she herself felt 
that her spirits were much debilitated, and 

6 In the margin of the original MS. this is said to have been 
*' the author " himself. 



it was pain to her to speak. When, not long 
after, the physicians came to visit her, they con- 
fessed they found her much altered since the 
day before ; yet gave her comfort that there was 
not so great danger as she imagined. As her 
weakness they said was more, so they appointed 
her to drink goat's milk, fresh drawn. But per- 
ceiving these to be but delays and dilatory 
medicines of doctors, feeling herself in danger, 
although she yielded to what they prescribed, 
having a thirsty desire to be with God, she com- 
manded and ceased not to call upon us, until 
order was given to bring her from the parish 
church the Blessed Sacrament, pro Viatico, 
albeit she had communicated but three or four 
days before. This the physicians, under pretence 
not to disanimate her, would have deferred, 
alleging the present necessity not to be so great ; 
until by more importunity of her grace. It was 
brought to her on Saturday night, at nine o'clock, 
which she received with marvellous gust and 
devotion, answering with good memory and 
-zealous promptitude to all questions that are 
demanded when in such case the Blessed Sacra- 
ment is administered. 

In this occasion, the duke, her grandson, came 


to ask her blessing upon his knees, and forgive- 
ness of all displeasures and offences, offering 
himself, his service, and his goods, to accomplish 
all that her excellency should order and com- 
mand ; and with this grew tender. She took this 
offer with an affectionate impression, although 
she intended to charge him with nothing, only 
commended to him her servants and gave him 
her blessing with much goodwill and love of a 
mother, adding some short lessons of good 

That night she passed resting very little, 
spending most of the time in prayer and hearken- 
ing to the Religious men that were about her ; 
for almost continually from this evening to her 
decease there were with her two Fathers of the 
Society, four Franciscan friars, one Dominican 
Father, her chaplain, and myself. 

On Sunday, the extremity increasing, she 
desired with great instance the Sacrament of 
Extreme Unction, which was brought and given 
her at ten o'clock in the forenoon ; which likewise 
she received with great devotion and demonstra- 
tion of her Christianity. And with others that 
were present when they gave her this Sacrament, 
was Don Juan Idiaques, an ancient councillor of 


Estate, President of the Council of Orders and 
generally of great name and respect in Spain, 
who after that she had received the Sacrament, 
went to her bedside to kiss her hands and to take 
his last leave. To him standing upon his knees, 
(for he would not be entreated to stand other- 
wise) she made a speech; with so good words 
and reasons commending to his favour and pro- 
tection, her house and the duke her grandson, 
as the President remained as it were amazed to 
see so great weakness and together such an 
understanding and memory in her affairs. He 
shedding many tears on going out of her chamber, 
said to us, " It is a thing to praise God for, to 
see this lady how well she stands with God, and 
the spirit that she hath." 

After her grace had received this Sacrament, 
her servants came to her chamber to ask forgive- 
ness and to take her blessing. There was 
nothing seen nor heard but tears and sighs. To 
all did she give pardon with gracious countenance 
and very good will, willing them all to pray for 
her. Likewise most of the great ladies that were 
in Madrid came to take their last leave and ask 
her blessing. Such was the reverence of her age, 
the example of her life and regard of her virtue. 



The same afternoon an English knight, a 
kinsman of our duchess, Sir Robert Chamberlain,^ 
came also to take his leave ; a chief motive of his 
coming to Madrid, as he said, was to kiss her 
hand. He now sorry to see her in that plight, 
so near her end, beseeched her blessing, and to 
command him something in her service. She 
said to him : " Cousin, you see my speech begins 
to fail me ; but what I wish you is, that you look 
to it, to stand strong and firm in the Catholic 
Faith. I know well that Catholics suffer great 
troubles in England ; but take care you lose not 
the goods of heaven for the goods of the earth. 
And so God Almighty bless you and keep you ; " 
commanding after a jewel to be given him of 
one hundred ducats, which, after her death, I 
bought and gave him. 

That night between eight and nine o'clock she 
had a trance, so extreme and violent that we all 
thought it would have ended her. And while she 
was in the combat of this fit, not altogether losing 
her sense, the Religious about her called to her to 

* A letter from Sir John Digby to the Earl of Salisbury, 
from Madrid, dated 19th January, 1612, st. vet. mentions the 
arrival there of Sir Robert Chamberlain, and the death of the 
duchess on the night of Monday, 13th January. 


name Jesus ; if she could hot with her tongue, 
yet with her mind to call upon Him and to trust 
in His Sacred Passion, putting in her hand a 
little crucifix which she often kissed, embraced 
it ; and when she recovered her speech repeated 
verbatim the words that the Fathers had said to 
her, and of herself (only with perfect memory) the 
whole hymn, Gloriosa Domina, Excelsa super 
ndera, etc. ; and many times repeated 

Maxia, Mater gratiae, 
Mater misericordiae ; 
Tu nos ab hoste protege, 
Et hora mortis suscipe. 
Crux Christi, protege nos ', 
Crux Christi, salva nos ; 
Crux Christi, defende nos. 

And in a manner her speech was always : " Jesu, 
Maria, be with me ; Mother of God, help me ; 
good Jesu, deliver me from these troubles," And 
in this sort, taking at times a little broth of 
substance passed to the next morning ; excusing 
herself to the Religious that had taken such pains 
with her that night. And in this interim, that 
night she spake promptly and readily of divers 
things with the servant "^ whom she trusted, com- 

^ Most probably the author himself. 


mending to his charge certain alms of much 
charity to divers persons. 

This day, Monday, being the last day of her 
life in this world, and in Spain a holiday of 
St. Hildefonsus, Bishop of Toledo, which at 
midnight she had mind of; for such was then 
Tier memory, as knowing it to be passed twelve 
•o'clock, she said to me : '* This is now St. Hilde- 
fonsus's day ; to-morrow, Tuesday, our Blessed 
Lady of Peace (for so it is observed in the arch- 
bishopric of Toledo) ; Wednesday, St. Paul's day; 
and Thursday, the 26th of January, St. Poly- 
carpus's day, the day that my son died in Naples." 
This day, I say, being holiday, she called and 
took care all her people should hear Mass. And 
when she saw the priest vested, she asked me, if 
all her women were there ? Which Mass, not- 
withstanding being so weak and lying in her bed, 
she attended and heard with, great devotion. 
About twelve o'clock the same day, a paroxysm or 
trance came upon her, so violent as she seemed 
to be wholly without sense and breathing to the 
last of her life; so as we all held her for de- 
parted; until, after a little space, they named, 
with a loud voice; the Name of Jesus, she a little 
towed down her head without any other motion, 


and continued in this trance very near an 

When she was come to herself and had taken 
a little broth, the young duchess, her daughter-in- 
law, told her that the Lady Digby, wife of the 
English Lord Ambassador, had been there to see 
her grace, but finding her in that agony was 
returned home. Her grace answered, " I would 
I had seen her." The duchess presently with 
haste sent her coach for her, sending her word 
that her grace was yet alive, and if she would 
come, might see her. The lady came as soon as 
she heard it, with all possible expedition. And 
coming into our duchess' chamber, drew near to 
the bedside, other company that were there 
giving her place. It seemed by her grace's 
countenance that she was glad of her coming ; 
and after salutations, the one bidding welcome, 
the other condoling to see her so sick, our 
duchess said to her these words: "Lady, I speak 
with much difficulty ; and that which I have not 
strength to say I refer to this Father ; " for there 
stood at her bed's head. Father Creswell, an 
English Father of the Society.® "Your Lady- 

8 Father Joseph Creswell, SJ. See De Backer, i — 1464, 
Oliver, 1—78. 


ship is now come into a country and place of 
Catholics where you may see and learn ; and if you 
do not, the fault is yours. And believe me. Lady, 
and I do tell it you, dying, That there is no salvation 
out of the Catholic Roman Church ; nor true faith 
but that which Catholics profess. And if your 
ladyship desires to save your soul, look to this 
which imports you." The Lady Digby answered: 
" Madame, I desire nothing so much, as reason 
is I should, as the salvation of my soul ; and I 
trust that the Lord will have mercy upon me ; 
for in the law and religion wherein I have been 
bred, I desire to serve Him." Her grace replied : 
" Lady, desires are not enough, it is necessary to 
put it into work, and no work is good but that 
which is by the faith and teaching of the Church. 
I lack strength to speak more; look well to it; 
this is it which most imports you." And so bade 
her farewell ; the Lady Ambassador weeping 
very much to see our Duchess draw so near to 
her end. 

When the Lady Digby was gone, one that stood 
on the further side of the bed, which was to- 
wards the wall, asked her Grace ^ how she did, 

• Here again we recognise the writer of this narrative, and 
in the incident recorded a few lines afterwards. 


and where she had been an hour since (meaning 
when she was in that great trance), telling her 
that we all thought she had been in heaven. 
She answered : " Surely, I was very near, why 
did they call me back again ? " Which was no 
small comfort to me and all that heard it. An 
liaur after, she turned again into another trance, 
but not so violent as was the last ; for she had her 
«ense and always showed signs of devotion when 
they named Jesus or Maria, with bowing down 
"her head and opening her eyes towards heaven. 
After a little time, her speech returning again, 
the same party came to her Grace, offering his 
service in what she pleased to command, and 
Avithal asked what she would have ? She ans- 
wered in English. "Health (pausing a little, 
added) in heaven, which I hope will quickly 
-come ; for we are in the Vespers of our Lady of 
Peace,^^ who in peace will receive my soul this 
night. Jesus, Maria, be with me. Sweet Jesus, 
liave mercy on me." 

A little time after, they brought to her the two 
young grandchildren, the daughters of the duke, 

^° A marginal note here tells us that on " the twenty-fourth 
•of January, in the diocese of Toledo, is celebrated the feast of 
our Lady of Peace." 


her grandson. She gave them her ^blessing, ask- 
ing it from heaven for them and for herself, which 
was not far off; for then, her spirits beginning to 
fail, within a matter of two hours after (that time 
being spent by the Religious about her in godly 
exhortations, prayers, and Divine service used in 
such occasions), a little after nine o clock in the 
night on the 23rd of January, 1612, sweetly with- 
out any trouble more than the pangs of death,. 
which were very short, she rendered her blessed 
soul to God for to live with Him eternally. 



Thus, our virtuous duchess left this transitory 
world to receive the reward of her virtue with the 
Saints of God, whereof we may have more than 
probable or moral hope that she was soon made 
partaker, considering what passed in the foresaid 
trances. She had suffered many months of pur- 
gatory in this world ; led a laudable and exemp- 
larj^ christian life ; and ended it with much edifi- 
cation and consolation of all the assistants ; for 
when her tongue failed, which was some half- 
hour before she deceased, her hands and eyes 
showed her faith and desire to be with God. And 
the last temporal thing that she spoke when her 
speech began to fail her was to her maid who 
attended at her bed's feet, bidding her to put in 
decency and handsomely her bed-clothes about 

N 2 


her body, to the end, no doubt, she might die with 
seemly decency so as to prevent what perhaps 
the pangs of death might cause. 

So this our duchess, on the octave of her birth 
(for she was born on the sixth of February), did 
return her happy soul to her Creator to attain the 
sum of her felicity ; and left her body remaining, 
with the face so beautiful, her hands so fair and 
flexible, wonderful in that great age, that they 
seemed rather of a heavenly creature than of a 
dead body. So dressed up in a poor Franciscan 
habit, which she had kept by her many years for 
that purpose to be her outward shroud (which 
had been the cast garment of a holy good Friar) 
and with a scapular of St. Dominic's Order, she 
was laid thus upon a pallet with her face un- 
covered and her hands held up close together, as 
the use is to hold them praying. 

In the meantime the duke, her grandson, being 
there, the Teniente of the town was called, (who 
is the judge in civil causes) and the scrivener 
that had written and sealed up her testament, to 
unseal it, open it, and read it publicly before the 
said Teniente, the duke, and others appointed. 
For so had our duchess ordained, that as soon as 
she should be departed this world, the duke (if 


he were in the town) should be present at the 
reading of her testament to ratify it if he pleased 
or otherwise, if he should take any exceptions 
about any legacies, to shew the cause before the 
Justice. When the Teniente was come before 
the duke, the Marquis de Malpica, the Conde de 
los Arcos, Don Alonso de Cordova, Don Francisco 
Garnica and others, where I was also present, 
the testament was opened and read aloud by the 
scrivener; which all heard with attention, the 
reading of it continuing about an hour. Which 
when read, the Teniente asked the duke if his 
excellency would ratify and confirm it? He 
answered, " Most willingly," and then subsigned 
it with his hand. The Teniente, also signing it, 
said, ** I see no other defect in this testament but 
one, that it is not printed, that others might learn 
by it to make their testament ; because I see in 
it the lively points and effects of great charity, 
rare wisdom, worthy virtue and true Christian 
zeal." This said the judge of the town of Madrid. 
The conclusion of which testament I will add 
here, being directed to the duke her grandson, 
her heir, as her last blessing, translated out of 
the Spanish, which is as follows, verbatim : — 
"After having commended my soul to our 


Lord, for the love and most intimate affection I 
bear to the duke, Don Gomez, as my grandchild, 
and lord of the house of his father, I require and 
beseech and charge him, that he take for founda- 
tion of all his actions the holy fear of our Lord 
God ; having care to give no place in his soul to 
sin, nor to differ one point from the observance 
of God's commandments. Be, my son, very 
charitable and an almsgiver; have about thee 
honest and virtuous company; take counsel of 
persons well-intentioned and virtuous; exercise 
thyself in the acts of a Christian gentleman as 
thy ancestors have done ; govern thy vassals with 
the love of a father and amorous lord; take com- 
passion of the poor, favour the good, repress the 
wicked and do justice with equality ; procuring 
to root out of thy estate public sins and offences 
of our Lord, Whom I humbly beseech, by the 
merits of His most holy Passion and of His 
most holy Mother our Blessed Lady, and St. 
Francis and St. Dominic, that He bless thee, and 
with His blessing give thee His Divine grace and 
those excellent favours which He accustometh to 
give to His elect ; that I, thy grandmother, and 
in love more than any, as much as I can, in the 
Name of the most holy Trinity, do bless thee 


within and without ; and conformable to this His 
holy blessing do again beseech Him that He 
obtain for thee and thy successors that which 
may be to the glory of the same God and good 
of thy soul and body, and goods and vassals. 
Amen. I pray thee that thou have me in thy 
memory, to command to say Masses for my soul, 
and for the souls of the duke thy father, and of 
the duke my lord, thy grandfather, who are in 

When the testament was read, signed and 
ratified by the justice and by the duke, order 
was presently taken that night to accomplish 
with the soonest expedition, what the testament 
commanded;, which was principally to say Masses 
for her soul. For she had ordained, as soon as 
might be after her departure, a hundred Masses 
should be said in the privileged altars of the 
town of Madrid; and there also ordered to be 
sung twenty-four Masses of Requiem. In the 
state of Feria she had ordained to be said three 
thousand Masses, besides the sung Masses for 
nine days together, after her burial ; good allow- 
ance given for all these Masses. She had 
bequeathed very liberally to the poor of Madrid, 
and to the poor monasteries there, to pray for her 


soul. She gave two hundred ducats to the poor 
of the town of Zaphra, and a very charitable 
benevolence to the monasteries there; ordering 
that twelve poor men should be thoroughly 
clothed to accompany her body at the burial, and 
to each of them twelve reals in money. Also 
she remembered with good alms our English 
Carthusians. No man-servant of hers but had 
mourning, a hat, a cassock and coat of good 
cloth ; and the women theirs as was fit ; and 
every one some good remembrance according to 
their quality and merit. 

The next morning her body was put into the 
coffin, wrapped in lead, because it was to be 
carried to Zaphra to the monastery of Sta. Clara, 
there to be put in the vault under the high choir, 
among the other coffins of the lords of that house. 
She willed in her testament to be laid by the 
duke her husband; saying that loving together 
so well in life, it was meet their bodies should 
not be parted in death. Zaphra is some two- 
hundred English miles from Madrid, where she 
died. That night before she was chested, divers 
came to see the sweetness and fairness of that 
face, kissing her hands upon their knees, 
imagining she was in place to pray for them. 


The coffin was set up high in the greater room 
of the house, set round with torches and wax 
lights, above and beneath, covered with a hearse- 
cloth of new black velvet, which the young 
duchess sent; so large, as the tomb standing 
higher than a man's head, it lay spread on both 
the ends and sides upon the ground. In the 
same room were set up two altars, where con- 
tinually from six o'clock to twelve, Masses were 
said and Responsories by divers Religious. And 
in the afternoon many came and prayed at the 

The day following, at three o'clock in the 
morning, the body was put in a coach to be 
carried to Zaphra, attended by her own servants 
and twelve of the duke's (whereof his secretary 
was one), her chaplain and an Augustine Friar ; 
for she had expressly commanded by her will to 
be carried with the least pomp and the most 
secret. This journey, which was nine days in 
travel, (for we entered in Zaphra on the second of 
February) was with the fairest weather, and as 
pleasant a voyage as could be wished, although 
we passed the great high mountains that part 
Castille from Estramadura, (where ordinarily is 
tempest and bitter storms in the winter ; for in 


our return we had sharp cold winds, hail and 
snow) and bein^ in the end of the month of 
January, which is not a season so settled for fair 
and warm weather. And withal such a con- 
formity and good agreement in all the company, 
(albeit there were pages, under-servants and 
hired fellows that served the coaches and mules, 
which usually are not the most orderly), as every- 
one did his duty; no murmuring, no grudging, 
no complaining, nor the least disgust in the 
world. Which I really have reason to attribute 
to the body of our good duchess that we carried. 
For divers times the same winter before she died, 
in November and December, the weather being 
very cold, rainy and tempestuous, she did say to 
me and others : " If I should die now, what 
trouble should I give my servants to carry my 
body ? " But then did we reply : " Fear not ; she 
that gave not trouble in life, will not give it in 
death ; " which was, as I may say, miraculously 
fulfilled. And when we drew near to our journey's 
end, entering into the precincts of the town of 
Zaphra, it began to rain so as the whole town 
cried : " The blessing of God is come ; " for they 
wanted rain exceedingly and had prayed long for 
it ; and that night they had enough, so that all 


which were on horseback were thoroughly wet, 
and we that were in coaches were not wholly dry* 

Upon Candlemas day, between five and six 
o'clock in the evening, we entered into Zaphra. 
Out of the town, the magistrates, gentlemen and 
chiefest inhabitants did meet the body with torch- 
light, and so accompanied it to the church of 
Sta. Marina, which church our duchess had built, 
and where lay buried the body of her cousin, 
Mrs. Margaret Harrington, the Lord Harrington's 
sister ; where was erected a goodly monument in 
the middle of the church to place the body upon. 
The nuns did sing Vespers and a nocturn dc 
Defunctis ; which done, all the company were dis- 
posed to their lodgings in several principal men's 
houses, who entertained us extraordinary well. 

The next morning the magistrates and we 
that brought the body met together at the Con- 
tador's house, who governed the estate, and with 
him as chief mourner went to the church, where 
was sung a solemn Mass and a sermon preached 
by a Franciscan Friar, much in praise of our 
duchess. In the afternoon the body was to be 
carried to Sta. Clara, where it was to be interred, 
which was done in this solemn manner. Most 
of the religious of all Orders in the whole estate 


were present with their crosses. The Priests of 
the town in their surplices and copes ; the Dean 
•of the High Church doing the Office, having a 
A^ery rich cope of black velvet richly embroidered 
A\^ith gold and the dalmatics of the deacon and 
the sub-deacon answerable. These the duke her 
^on had caused to be made in Sicily, with the 
antependiums and furniture for six altars ; for so 
many are in the Church of Sta. Clara ; and they 
are the fairest and richest ornaments to be used 
pro defunctis that I have seen in Spain, or else- 
T^here ; and, the first time that they were used, it 
T^as for the duke that caused them to be made. 
And albeit the way was not long between the two 
monasteries, yet they made three stations, singing 
a Responsory, with a prayer and incensing, cer- 
tain low pillars being set, covered with black 
cloth to set the body upon. 

Being entered into Sta. Clara, the body was 
placed on a stately high monument in the high 
choir; and the nuns sung vespers and the noc- 
turns of requiem. The same night, shewing to 
the Abbess of Sta. Clara, who then was Donna 
Maria de Mendo9a, a niece of the duke of 
Infantadgo, what was to be performed by the 
testament of the duchess, whose will was that 


her body should be there interred with the bodies 
of the dukes, her husband and son ; and that the 
abbess, before a public notary, should accept the 
conditions for accomplishing the anniversaries 
and other rites ordered by the testament. The 
abbess and other of the nuns answered, they 
would first see whether the body were there. 
For, say they, we see a coffin, but we must see 
that the body is in it. Which whether it was 
necessary to open the coffin being so locked, and 
the body in lead, and the long time that it had 
rested there would be troublesome ; or that the 
abbess suspected the body might be taken out, it 
was questioned. For the abbess of Sta. Marina 
told me that she with her religious had a purpose 
that the night that the body rested in their 
church to have stolen it out and to have stuffed 
the coffin with some other matter, alleging that 
it was proper to them, and that her body, who 
was the foundress, should remain in her own 
church, and it was against reason they should be 
deprived of so holy a treasure so due to them. I 
answered that we had the key of the coffin ; and 
the lock broken, it would have been perceived; 
and withal it had broken her last will and desire 
and would have procured much scandal and 


debate ; nor could I permit it, being one of the 
executors. "The lock seen, and the consideration 
thereof did only stay us, said she." 

There served no reply to the abbess of Sta. 
Clara but she would see the body; nor would 
she sign nor agree to an)^hing before she saw it, 
although it was fast locked and no breech at all 
to be seen in the coffin which, upon the boards, 
was covered close with black velvet, laced on the 
sides and ends, thick nailed with gilded nails, 
and double hinges fast nailed at all the corners 
gilded. So, to give contentment to their curiosity, 
the coffin was opened and the face seen, which 
was twelve days after her death, still remaining 
fair, so seemly and sweet and with so lively 
colours, as if she had been living; her hands 
tender, flexible and white, as they were while she 
lived. And out of her nostrils dropped a little 
blood, so fair, fresh and red, as if it had been from 
a lamb ; which a priest standing there took in his 
handkerchief, although her body had not been 
opened, (for she did precisely command in her 
testament, charging her executors that no person 
should touch nor come near her body until her 
women had shrouded it up,) nor been dressed 
with spicjss, balms nor other drugs; so as all that 


saw it stood admired and might say: ^'Laudabilis 
Deus in Sanctis suis" 

The next morning, being Saturday the 4th of 
February, the exequies of her funeral were to be 
solemnized, which continued from six o'clock in 
the morning to four in the evening. For first the 
Recollects of St. Francis's Order did sing their 
Noctum and Mass so solemn as their Order may 
permit, with a Responsory after, sprinkling holy 
water and incensing about the monument. After 
them the Dominicans did the same also, more 
solemnly. After them the Franciscans did the 
like, the Superior still singing the Mass. Then 
next, the priests of the great church, the dean 
doing the office; the Nocturn sung and Mass 
celebrated most solemnly; and at the end of 
Mass they sung Alternis vicibus, five responsories, 
five times sprinkled, and five times incensed, 
about the monument. After them the nuns of 
the same church began their office, and after 
they had sung their nocturn, High Mass was 
celebrated ; after the gospel whereof had been 
sung, was preached a sermon by the Prior of the 
Dominicans. His theme was out of the 114th 
Psalm, "Convertere anima mea in requiem tuam, 
quia Dominus beneficit tibi. Quia eripuit animam 


meam de morte, oculos meos a lacrymis, pedes 
meos a lapsu. Placebo Domino in regione 
vivorum ; " which he applied very learnedly and 
divinely to the person, life and death of our 

After this office was done, as the former had 
been, they took down the coffin to be carried down 
into the cave, where many other bodies lay 
in chests that were of the blood and descendants 
of the house of Feria. I was one who assisted to 
bear her body into that vault, which gave no 
offence, but with as good a savour as might be 
wished, was there deposed, '*utin resurrectionis 
gloria inter sanctps et electos resuscitata respiret.^* 
Nine days after we stayed there, assisting daily 
at the sung Mass, which was in the church of 
Sta. Clara ; so commanded by her Grace's will, 
and the ninth day the solemnity was more than 

The house of our Duchess, as she had ordered 
by will, remained two months, every servant 
there having their allowance as when she lived, 
to have that time to provide themselves. Pres- 
ently upon our return^ all legacies wefe paid ; and 
before the two months were expired, all dues for 
Masses and other alms were discharged, and 


the annuities bequeathed so settled as all future 
questions were prevented that might hinder the 
due payment. 

I should describe here the outward habit and 
constitution of the body and stature of the 
Duchess, which is in the history distinctly noted 
as she grew in years ; and when I came to her 
service in the year 1603, in the first year of King 
James, she was in the sixty-sixth year of her age ; 
which together with the heats of Spain, was much 
extenuated, beginning a little to stoop. She was 
somewhat higher than ordinary; of a comely 
person, a lively aspect, a gracious countenance^ 
very clear-skinned, quick in senses ; for she had 
her sight and hearing to her last hour. Until 
she broke her arm, she was perfect in all parts ; 
her person venerable and with majesty ; all show- 
ed a nobility and did win a reverent respect from 
all. I have not seen of her age a more fair,, 
comely and respectful personage ; which was 
perfected with modest comportment, deep judg- 
ment, graceful humility and true piety. Of her 
may be notably and really spoken those praises 
which are expressed in Holy Scripture of a 
Good Woman. 


Abbot's Aston, ii. 
Admiral, Lord High, see 

Howard, Charles, Lord. 
Alcala, 182. 

Alen9on, Margaret, duch- 
ess of, 76. 
Allen, William, Cardinal, 

57, 139. 
Alva, Fernando Alvares de 

Toledo, duke of, 5 1 , 1 1 1 . 
Amboise, 116. 
Antwerp, 112, 115. 
Aquila, Alvaro de Quadra, 

bishop of, 106, 109. 
Arcos, the Conde de los, 

Arcos, Maria de Toledo, 

duchess of, 137. 
Arthur, prince, 76, 78. 
Ashridge, 59. 
Atocha, 158. 
Ayala, don Juan de, 108, 

Aylesbury, 15, 48. 

Bacon, sir Nicholas, 95. 

Badajos, 143, 144. 

Bailie, Thomas, 139. 

Barlow, William, Dr, 94. 

Barnstaple, 174. 

Bedford, John Russel, earl 
of, 48, 49. 

Bell, Gregory, 139. 

Beverley, Robert Law- 
rence, prior of 25. 

Bill, William, Master of 
St. John's College, Cam- 
bridge, 95. 

Boleyn, Anne, queen, 41, 
76, 77, 78, 79,81,82,85. 

Boleyn, George, viscount 
Rochford, 79. 

Boleyn, Thomas, earl of 
Wiltshire, 76, 87. 

Bonner, Edmund, bishop 
of London, 67, 96. 

Boulogne, no. 

Bourne, Gilbert, bishop of 
Bath and Wells, 96. 

Brabant, 107. 

Branford, Gilbert, 139. 

Brentford, 39. 

Brereton, William, 79. 

Brian, Sir Francis, 40, 41, 

Browne, Anthony, Vis- 
count Montague, 13, 14. 

Bruges, in. 

Brussels, 115. 

Buccapedalius, Ant. 140. 

Buckinghamshire, 48. 

Calais, no, in, 
Cambridge, 13. 
Camden, William, 76, 86, 
90, 97. 

Canute, king of England, 6. 
Capel, Giles, 139. 
Carew, sir Gawen, 93. 
Carew, sir Peter, 93. 



Carter, William, 139. 

Carion delos Condes, 161. 

Cassano, Owen Lewis, 
bishop of, 57. 

Carlos, don, son of king 
Philip II, 135. 

Carnarvon, Charles Dor- 
mer, earl of, i. 

Carthusians, the, of Lon- 
don, 21, 22, 125, 139. 

Castille, iii, 207. 

Catharine of Siena, St., 

Catharine, queen, wife of 
Henry VIII., 9, 73, 76, 

77, 7«. 
Catharine Parr, queen, 
widow of Henry VlIL, 

Chamberlain, sir Leonard, 


Chamberlain, sir Robert, 

Charles V., emperor, y^^ 
76, 83, 131. 

Chauncey, Maurice, mar- 
tyr, 139. 

Cheke, sir John, 92. 

Cholmeley, Sir John, 92. 

Cisneros, Benito, 151. 

Clara, St. 167, 179. 

Clarentia, Mrs. no. 

Clement VII., Pope, 75. 

Clement VIII., Pope, 161. 

Clifford, Henry, (see Pre- 

Constable, sir Henry, 14. 

Cordova, Alonso de, 203. 

Cordova, Antonio de, S.J., 

Cordova, Catalina Fer- 
nandez de, 136. 

Cresswell, Joseph, S.J. 
119, 197. 

Croydon, 64. 

Cranmer, Thomas, arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, 

Croftes, sir James, 93. 

Cromwell, Thomas, lord, 

Cuen9a, a bonesetter, 155. 

Curie, Gilbert, secretary 
to Queen Mary Stuart, 

Dacre of the North, lord, 

Daniel, John, 88. 
Dartford, 108. 
Dauley, John, 139. 
Dennie, sir Thomas, 93. 
Devonshire, Edward 

Courtney, earl of, 67, 93. 
Digby, Lord, 197. 
Digby, Lady, 197, 198. 
Dominic, St., 167, 179, 204. 
Dorman, Thomas, 139. 
Dormer, Charles, earl of 

Carnarvon, i. 
Dormer, lady Elisabeth, i. 
Dormer, lady Jane, mother 



of the duchess of Feria, 

16, 17, 18. 
Dormer, Jane, see Feria, 

duchess of 
Dormer, Margaret, 14. 
Dormer, Robert, lord, i, 16. 
Doullens, 69. 
D'Oussons, M. 116. 
Dover, 109, no. 
Drake, sir Francis, 98. 
Dudley, sir Henry, 92. 
Dudley, lord, Robert, 92. 
Dunbar, viscount, 14. 
Dunkirk, in. 

Edward the Confessor, 6, 7. 
Edward III., king, 8. 
Edward IV., king, 77. 
Edward VI., king, n, 38, 

42, 48, 59» 62, 83, 86. 
Edward, prince, son of the 

Duke of Clarence, 77. 
Elizabeth, queen, 49, 67, 

72, 73» 85, 100, 105. 
Eltham, 81. 

Escurial, the, 129, 142. 
Essex, Walter Devreux, 

earl of, 97. 
Estramadura, 122, 207. 
Ethrop, 15, 59. 
Exeter, Elisabeth, duchess 

of, 12. 
Exeter, Henry Courtney, 

marquis of, 67. 
Exeter, John Holland, 

duke of, 12. 

Exmew, William, martyrt 

Feckenham, John, abbot 
of Westminster, 96. 

Fenne, John, 139. 

Feria, don Gomes de Fig- 
ueroa, count and duke 
of, his arrival in Eng- 
land, 68, 69, 73, 74, loi, 
his marriage with Jane 
Dormer, 102, 103, 104, 
assists the English Ca- 
tholics, 106, leaves Eng- 
land, 108, his will, 123, 
124, his devotion, 126, 
127, his affection for the 
Society of Jesus, 136, 
137, his last sickness, 
and death, 129-140. 

Feria, Jane Dormer, 
duchess of, her descent, 
birth, and family, 1-66, 
her marriage, 102, 103, 
104, her parting inter- 
view with Queen Eliz- 
abeth, 108, 109, leaves 
England, 108, her life 
in Spain, 1 15-128, her 
widowhood, 1 46- 1 80, 
her last illness, 188, her 
death, 200, 202, her fune- 
ral, 213. 

Feria, Gomez, her grand- 
son, 204. 

Feria, Pedro, count, 171. 


'Fisher, John, Cardinal and 

martyr, 74, 78. 
Flanders, 39, 69, 90, 103, 

107, 136, 137, 151. 
Flushing, 112, 
Foster, Peter, 139. 
France, 69, 89, 94, 103. 
Francis I., king of France, 

76, 83. 
Francis II., king of 

France, 116. 
Francis, St., of Assisi, 164, 

167, 204. 
Freeman, Thomas, 139. 

Gage, Robert, 89. 

Gardiner, Stephen, bishop 
of Winchester, 67. 

Garnica, Francisco, 203. 

Gates, sir Francis, 92. 

Gaunt, John of, 12. 

Ghent, 112. 

Gloucestershire, no. 

Godwin, earl, 6. 

Goldwell, Thomas, bishop 
of St. Asaph, 96. 

Gourden, M., governor of 
Calais, no. 

Granvelle, Antoine, Car- 
dinal, 113, 114. 

Gravelines, in. 

Gregory XIII., Pope, 57, 

Grey, Jane, 48, 49, 87. 

Grindal, Edmund, bishop 
of London, 95. 

Guise, duke of, 116. 

Hall, Richard, 139. 
Hampton Court, 69. 
Hardicanute, king of Kng- 

land, 6. 
Harefield, 8. 
Hargatt, Edmund, 139. 
Harold Harefoot, king of 

England, 6. 
Harrington, John, lord, 13, 

151, 209. 
Harrington, lady, no, 151, 

Hatfield, 88. 

Hatton,sir Christopher, 96. 
Haughton, John, martyr, 

25, 26. 
Hawkins, sir Richard, 1 75. 
Helena, queen, 174. 
Henry VI., king, 8. 
Henry VII., king, 77, 90. 
Henry VIII. , king, 9, 23, 

32, 59» 74» 75» 85. 
Hexham, 25. 
Hide, Thomas, 139. 
Hochstraten, the duchess 

of, 114. 
Holland, 97. 
Home, Robert, bishop of 

Winchester, 95. 
Howard, Charles, lord, 

99, 100. 
Howard, William, lord, 

168, 169. 
Huguenots, the, 97. 


Hungerford, lord, 151. 
Hungerford, Anne, lady, 
2, i3» 54» 57» 151- 

Idiaques, Juan, 192. 
Ignatius, St. 136. 
Ildefonsus, St. 196. 
Infantadzo, the duke of, 

Infantadzo, the duchess of, 

Ireland, 95. 

James V., king of Scotland, 

James VI., king of Scot- 
land, 116. 

Jerusalem, St. John of, 95. 

JolifFe, Henry, 139. 

Julian II. (?) Pope, 174. 

Kimbolton Castle, 76. 
Kingston, sir Anthony, 88. 
Knott, William, 139. 

Lambeth, 96. 

Lapa, S. Onofrio de la, 

i73» 179- 

Latimer, Hugh, bishop of 
Worcester, 86. 

Lawrence, Robert, mar- 
tyr, 25. 

Leicester, Robert Dudley, 
earl of, 96. 

Leicestershire, 93, 

Lewis, Owen, bishop of 
Cassano, 57, 139. 

Li6ge, 112. 

Lisbon, 39, 108. 

London, 108. 

Louvain, 50, 55, 115, 163. 

Madrid, 142, 144, 150, 156, 

i75» 177, 178, i93» 194. 
203, 205, 206. 

Malpica, the marquis of, 

Marchena, the Jesuit col- 
lege of, 137. 

Margaret, queen of Spain, 

Marina, Sta. the church 
of, 180, 188, 209, 211. 

Marshalsea, the 27. 

Martin St., of Tours, 167. 

Mary Tudor, queen of 
England, 2, 13, 39, 43, 
49» 58, 61,62, 68,70,71, 
84, 86, 87, 90, 94, 167, 

Mary Stuart, queen of 
Scots, 97, 116, 117, 118, 

ii9» 175- 
Mechlin, 50, 107, 112, 113, 

Medicis, Mary de, queen 
of France, 116, 118. 

Medina Celi, the duke of, 

Mendes, Luys, iii. 

Mendo9a, Maria de, 210. 

Metham, Thomas, 139. 

Middlemore, Humphry, 
martyr, 27. 


Moles, F. Juan Baptista, 
126, 127, 180. 

Montague, Anthony 

Brown, viscount, 13, 14. 

Montague, sir Edward, 92. 

Montilla, the Jesuit col- 
lege of, 137. 

Montreuil, 9. 

More, sir Thomas, mar- 
tyr, 79. 

Morone, Giovanne, Car- 
dinal, 57. 

Namur, 55. 

Neville, Anne, 12. 

Neville, Amphyllis, 8. 

Neville, Frances, 169. 

Neville, John, 12. 

Neville, Thomas, 12. 

Newbury, i. 

Newdigate, John, of Hare- 
field, 8, 16. 

Newdigate, Sebastian, 
martyr, 2, 19 — 37. 

Newton, sir Henry, no. 

Nieuport, in. 

Norfolk, Thomas, duke of, 
67, 68. 

Normandy, 6. 

Norris, Henry, 79. 

Norris, Mr., mayor of 
Barnstaple, 174. 

Northampton, William, 
marquis of, 92. 

Northumberland, John, 
duke of, 12, 48. 

Nottingham, Charles, earl 
of, 68. 

Oglethorp, Dr., Bishop of 

Carlisle, 96. 
Oxford, 38. 

Packington, 96. 

Paris, 5, 116. 

Parker, Matthew, arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, 95. 

Parker, Thomas, 139. 

Parma, Margaret, duchess 
of, 55, 112, 114. 

Paston, Mrs., no. 

Pate, Richard, bishop of 
Worcester, 96. 

Paul v.. Pope, 143, 161. 

Peace, Our Lady of, 196, 

Pellev6, Nicolas, Car- 
dinal, 5. 

Pembroke, the countess of, 

Philip II., king of Spain, 

5, 56, 69, 88, 90, 94, 98, 

103, 108, 165. 
Pickering, sir William, 96, 

Pius v.. Pope, 140. 
Pliego, the marquisate of, 

i33» 171. 
Pliego, Catalina, marquesa 

de, 137. 
Plutarch, 3. 
Plymouth, 175. 



Pole, Reginald, Cardinal, 

64, 80. 
Pope, sir Thomas, 89. 
Portugal, 39, 108, 143. 
Portugal, Sebastian, king 

of, 121. 

Quadra, Alvaro de, bishop 
of Aquila, 106, 109. 

Raleigh, sir Walter, 96. 
Rhemes, the Cardinal of, 

Rhodes, the knights of, 40. 
Ribadeneyra, P6dro de, 7, 

i35» 184. 
Ribera, Juan de, Patriarch 

of Antioch, 180. 
Rice, Richard, cook to 

Cardinal Fisher, 78, 79. 
Richmond, 98. 
Rome, 96, 137. 
Rutland, the countess of, 


Salisbury, Margaret, 

countess of, 80. 
Sanders, Nicholas, 50, 51, 


Santiago, the order of, 124. 

Savoy, the palace of, 104. 

Scarborough castle, 89. 

Scotland, 98. 

Scotland, Mary Stuart, 
queen of, see Mary Stu- 

Segovia, 120. 

Segura de la Sierra, 124, 

Seville, 174. 

Seymour, Jane, 40, 42, 79. 
Seymour, sir Thomas, 86, 

Shelley, sir William, 95, 

96, 116. 
Shene, the Carthusians of, 

Sicily, 143, 210. 
Sidney, sir Henry, 13, 104, 

Sidney, lady, 41. 
Sidney, Mary, mother of 

Jane Dormer, 12, 13. 
Sidney, sir Philip, 13. 
Sidney, sir William, 12, 13, 

Sion, the nuns of, 39, 107, 

Sixtus v.. Pope, 161. 
Smeton, Mark, 79, 80. 
Smith, sir Thomas, 95. 
Smith, William, 139. 
Somerset, Edward Sey- 
mour, duke of, 83, 84. 
Somerset, duchess of, 92. 
Spain, 39, 76, 112, 120, 
Spain, Isabella, queen of, 

Spain, Philip II., king of, 

see Philip II. 
St. Denis, 116. 
St. John, of Bletsoe, lord, 

Stafford, Thomas, 89. 



Stanton, William, 88. 
Stapleton,Thomas,57, 139. 
Stonor, lady, 38. 
Stowe's Chronicle, 7. 
Stradling, sir Edward, 1 10. 
Stratford, Thomas, 93. 
Suffolk, Charles Brandon, 

duke of, 13. 
Suffolk, Henry Grey, duke 

of, 93- 
Sussex, Frances, countess 

of, 13. 
Sussex, earl of, 104, no. 

Taylour, William, 139. 

Thirlby, Thomas, bishop of 
Ely, 96. 

Thomas, William, 93. 

Throckmorton, John, 88. 

Throckmorton, sir Nico- 
las, 93. 

Toledo, 120, 196. 

Toledo, Antonio de, in. 

Toledo, archbishop of, 183. 

Tournay, the archbishop 
of, 114. 

Tower of London, 30. 

Trent, the Council of, 96. 

Tunstall, Cuthbert, bishop 
of Durham, 67, 96. 

Tyburn, 26, 34. 

Udall, Richard, 58, 93, 
Urles,the monastery of, 1 24. 

Valladolid, 144, 
Vaux, Cuthbert, 139. 
Velada, the marquis of, 162. 

Villalva, 127. 

Visita9ion, Maria de la, 

Vives, Ludovicus, 82. 

Wales, 93. 

Watson, Thomas, bishop 
of Lincoln, 96. 

Webbe, Laurence, 139. 

Webster, Augustine, mar- 
tyr, 25. 

Westminster, 32. 

Westmoreland, Henry 
Neville, earl of, 90. 

Weston, Francis, 79. 

White, John, bishop of 
Winchester, 96. 

White, Richard, 139. 

Whitehall, 98. 

Whitehead, Hugh, dean 
of Durham, 95. 

Whitgift , John, archbishop 
of Canterbury, 99, 100. 

William L, king of Eng- 
land, 8. 

Wilson, Thomas, 139. 

Wiltshire, William Paulet, 
earl of, 87. 

Wing, Charles Dormer, 
baron, i. 

74» 75» 76. 

Woodstock, 88. 

Worcester, 96. 

Wyatt, sir Thomas, 87, 93. 

Zafra, 122, 124, 126, 144, 
151, 179, 180, 206 — 215. 



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